Alone again, naturally

The ladies are gone for the weekend, trekking to the Great White North to deliver oldest daughter to the liberal mind-control masters of higher education. Fortunately, we've trained her since birth to be skeptical and cynical, so I think she'll survive the experience. A prof or two might have a rough time of it though. One can only hope.

So it's me and the boys. Two male dogs and yours truly, for a change the house reeks of testosterone instead of estrogen. Ahhhhhhh. So what's on the agenda you might ask. Non-stop porn? High-carb beers and corn flakes for dinner? A reenactment of my bachelor party?

Nay, dammit. Those all sound wonderful except this morning something happened to me that makes Freddy vs. Jason look like a Lifetime movie.

Kidney stone.

If you're on the ground, curled up in a fetal position, then you've had the experience. If not, then I sincerely hope you never do. Mine are the minor 'grain-of-sand' variety, and it's nature's way of telling me to drink more water. A lot more. So I've spent the day chugging cranberry juice (acid is good for it's disolving effects) and water and tea and anything else liquid, and running to the bathroom every ten minutes. The worst is over, I'm past the screaming and dread phase, and I'll be fine by monday.

Figures the girls are gone. No one here to 'aw poor baby' and listen to me whine. The damn dogs just sleep and do other dog things like lick themselves. Right now, I'm not even jealous of them. It's a karma thing I'm sure, because I couldn't score any new porn last week at work, and the only thing in the house are 3 ancient tapes that would probably disintigrate in the VCR. Not that I need them, I could probably recite the dialog on them from memory.

You know what? Even in the present circumstances, I have the house to myself for 2 more days. It's still a good weekend.

Didja know?

The first man in space, Yuri Gagarin, flew in 1961. In 1969, Neil Armstrong set foot on the moon.

NASA defines space as beginning at an altitude of 50 miles. If you could steer your car straight up, you could drive to space in less than an hour.

War - what is it good for?

Mookie abandons the 'shot across the bow' and rakes the opponent with a full broadside! See 'A pictorial history of the war', which isn't really, but it used to be the 'logo page' until we added some new stuff and renamed it.

More coming soon, I'm sure. I grounded her for no good reason and she's pissed off!

War - and a call to be creative

You all remember Haiku, the 3-line Japanese version of the limerick. First line has 5 syllables, second line has 7, third line has 5 again. Well, this is your call to action!!! Round two of our crusade against the netflix shill (I've just started the rumor that they hired him because William Shatner wasn't available) consists of a sound and thorough thrashing of his (many) character flaws via ninja poetry.

Pick up your pens! Sharpen your wits!

Here are two to get you started:

Restless sleep again
Has dark dream that no one knows
Secret monkey love

Strike fierce ninja pose
Yell 'Rarr' into silvered glass
Once again scares self

Someone's in the kitchen with Dinaaaaaaaahhhhhh...

Here's a recipe that's quick, easy and tasty.

Southwestern White Chili

ingredients:
1½ lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cubed
1/4 cup onion, chopped
1 cup chicken broth
1 cup green chilies, chopped
1 19oz can white kidney beans

1 Tbsp olive oil
1 tsp garlic powder
1 tsp ground cumin
½ tsp oregano
½ tsp cilantro
1/8 tsp ground red pepper

Sliced green onions
Shredded Monterrey Jack cheese

directions:
1. Heat olive oil in a large saucepan over medium heat. Add chicken and onions, cook 4-5 minutes.
2. Stir in broth, green chilies, and spices. Simmer 15 minutes.
3. Stir in beans, simmer 5 minutes.

Top with green onions and cheese.

Serves 4.

The Lighter Side of Looting

Over at Mr. Helpful, the latest episode of the Shatner Chronicles is up. Funny stuff. Trust me, I spent five winters in North Dakota. Remember that movie Fargo? That was a freakin' documentary. Uf-da!

Flight simulator

There's a popular radio-control flight simulator called PRE-Flight, and they've just released a simulation for download of Burt Rutan's White Knight and SpaceShipOne. You may remember that I talked about these and the quest for the XPrize.

Lots of neat simulators to play with, including the Apache attack chopper, SR-71 Blackbird, and the P51 Mustang.

War - update

Once again afraid-of-oriental-kids-on-halloween-boy is begging Jen to surrender. To his dismay, our Commander-in-Chief has seen through his craven and snivial actions and once again laughed upon his prostrate groveling form. (I’m guessing that she has way too many plans in motion to actually call them all off in time)

In other news, we are pleased to announce that annika did NOT join forces with said synchronized-swimming doormat. She did not ‘cross the Rubicon', she did NOT pledge her allegiance, she DID NOT place her pets in danger of puppy-orphanism, SHE DID NOT 'drink the kool-aid' – though if she did, I sincerely hope it’s the unspeakable stuff they used to serve us in the military that comes in 55-gallon drums labeled “Drink, mix, powdered, green-flavored”.

Speaking of unspeakable, [insert insult here] is trying to declare war upon Instapundit. That’s right, he’s decided to lead his army-of-the-deceived onto a cruise aboard the IMAO-Titanic in an attempt to conquer the Iceburgh (I spelled it germanically so it looks meaner).

Ha!
Ha Ha!

A small and under-appreciated group of warmongers are attacking, yet they are like mere mosquitoes around a napping guy in a hammock on a beautiful spring day when he should be cutting the grass. Annoyance!

Would someone please silence that small yappy dog?

Niners won 14-10

Which is the diplomatic way of avoiding the words 'Raiders lose'.

War - logo's are here

Following Jen's lead, if you are not interested in the Blog War between the Axis of Evil Naughty and monkey-boy, I shall henceforth title all of my war-related posts with the word 'War' (a command decision, which is why she makes the big bucks). So scroll on down you peace-mongerers, I'll keep posting other things as the muse demands.

Still with me? Hmmm. Over on the right column is our official Axis of Evil Naughty logos page, full of happy little pictures to bring fright and terror into our enemy. Major thanks to Mookie for these, she did her usual great job. As a little teaser, I've seen her "Frank Files" folder, and she has things in the works that may single-handedly bring mr. I-need-a-cool-name-for-my-army to his knees.

Cuddly little critters

The war on he-who-shall-remain-clueless nameless (-until-we-crush-him-like-a-bug, at which point we will gloat insufferably) continues. For those who doubt the ultimate outcome, ponder this wisdom from Jennifer:

"You can never have too many sharks with laser beams attached to their heads."

Which, amazingly enough, is the perfect segue (look it up Mookie), for my next... whatever you call what comes next.

It looked really out of place. Perched on my computer monitor at work was this cute, fuzzy little stuffed-animal puppydog. And tied to his head was a large, grey, cardboard shark fin, looking like something foolish children would swim around with at the beach to scare the unwary. The fin was outrageously large in comparison, prompting several protests and hate-filled letters from PETSA (you figure it out). It stayed there for months, and everybody would look at it with an odd expression, but nobody ever asked.

Until one day, someone did.

If this were "Ted's Universe", I would have scripted it just this way. Since it isn't (last time I checked), I just have to thank the fates for giving me this one. A manager and his posse were in my office to discuss a 'serious' problem and their proposed - and unworkable - solution. As we were wrapping the meeting up, he points to the puppy and asks what it was for.

I explained that it symbolized his management approach. You see, whenever a problem surfaced, this guy would raise hell, looking big and scary and frightening people into panic. But once you looked at the problem closely, you realized it was just a yappy little dog.

*****

Raiders vs Niners tonight. Yes, it's only preseason, but this is the game of the year for our household, at least until the playoffs begin. My wife is a serious Niners fan. I've been a Raiders fanatic since I was knee-high to Daryl Lamonica. We decided long ago that if our teams ever met in the Super Bowl, she would go stay with her folks for two weeks until the game was over. I like the Niners, she likes the Raiders. But not when they go head to head.

And how, you may ask, does this fit under the title "Cuddly little critters"? Raider fans are cuddly, and Jeff Garcia has crotch-critters.

Signs

I was noticing something about the building where I work - there are signs everywhere. Most fall into the "DO" or "DO NOT DO" category, and have been printed by some chickenshit busybody concerned coworker who feels that we all need to be treated like children reminded to behave in a manner that meets his personal standards.

While reflecting on that (in the mens room, face to face with a sign telling me that courteous people flush), I realized that all of these signs said basically the same thing. So I'm going to write up a suggestion form and turn it in for management to consider. Think of all the untidy and non-standard mini-signs taped and stapled up all over the workplace, and we can be rid of all of them with one simple sign. In big neon letters, as you walk in the front door:

DON'T BE A DICK.

Calling Nurse Ratchet...

After laughing my way through an article at Right Wing News, I looked for the typical "If you enjoyed this satire by..." line at the end. It wasn't there, because the article was for real. Whoever said "God must love stupid people, because he made so many of them", knew what he was talking about.

Don't forget to say "Thank You"

Next time you read about someone calling America a bunch of 'cowboys', smile and acknowlege the compliment. In the meantime just grab a cup of coffee, a plate of beans, hitch up closer to the fire, and read this.

It's official

Jen has declared blogwar on frank. As everyone knows, she has history on her side, so frank immediately folded like a cheap paper plate and offered to surrender. To the heartening strains of "Invader Zim's Song of Doom", she refused his cowardly act and sent him off to whimper and check his email. Ha!

As reported faithfully, completely, and unbiasedlessly by the DisInformation Minister of War. #1

An-a one, an-a two...

Since half of my posts today (so far) have made mention of music, I thought I'd make it an uneven three out of five.

I'm sick of Evanescence. Enough already!!! Come back in six months and I'll enjoy you all over again, but right now you're waaaaaaay overplayed.

The Counting Crows scored with their cover of Big Yellow Taxi - a major improvement on the original. Lose the extraneous background vocal by Vanessa Carlton (my CD version doesn't have it, the radio version usually does), and it's near perfect.

My favorite Frank Zappa: Thing-Fish, You Are What You Is, and Joe's Garage, acts I, II and III

High Flight

A part of this poem was quoted by President Reagan following the Challenger shuttle tragedy. You can read about the author here. Well worth a look.

High Flight

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds - and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew -
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand and touched the face of God.

John Gillespie Magee, Jr.

How many have you heard (of)?

Five bands who should have made it bigger than they did:

1. Rainmakers
2. Michael Stanley Band
3. Toronto
4. Hotel (from Birmingham, Alabama. Not 'the' Hotels)
5. BusBoys

Well, that was a big help

Tiger has been referring to various postings as being the 'snarkiest'. Unsure as to the meaning, I looked it up in the dictionary. It told me to "see Grok".

Daughters and other women in your life

Kin posted two parts on his 'rules for relationships'. He makes his case, and then nails his position - as far as us guys are concerned - by linking to Beer, Steak, Victoria's Secret and Kung-Fu Porn. He's my new hero. I won't steal his thunder, go see him for those links.

Next we get Mookie, and the view from behind the other chromosome. I mean the one that turns a sweet lovable child into an anti-social psychotic teenager overnight. I can't get the links to those specific posts to work right now, so just scroll down to her 'Idiots guide to Teenage Dating', parts 1 and 2.

Which brings us to Starhawk, who has apparently made the move from blogger (without giving us a redirect page and leaving me off his new blogroll - probably because I'm mean to Rachael). Starhawk has a daughter a year younger than mine, and he's pondering the purchase of a new shotgun. Coincidence? I don't think so.

Dads, the best advice I can give is to not listen to the song "Hey Mister", by Custom. Although it's a darn catchy tune. (warning: R-rated lyrics)