Out of order, I show you out of order. You don't know what out of order is, Mr. Trask. I'd show you, but I'm too old, I'm too tired, I'm too fuckin' blind. If I were the man I was five years ago, I'd take a FLAMETHROWER
As soon as he loaded Agent Stahl's ass into the front seat of that car, I knew there was going to be no mercy. But on a side note, did you know Ally Walker is almost 50 years old? Not a bad piece of ass for an old broad, eh? I'd take her over Jax's doctor chick, believe it or not. Something about her just rubs me the wrong way. And on another side note, Kurt Sutter is: the show's creator, the real life husband of Katey Sagal (who plays Gemma), and guy who plays Otto. Huh. But more on topic, the last two episodes were the best of the season; I'm sorry but everything leading up to this whole 'going to Ireland' storyline was fucking stupid. Now that the Sons were back in town, the quality of the show jumped back up to its normal ass kicking self. It's too bad this didn't happen until the very last two episodes of the season, but at least we're past it. I do feel bad for Opie though. Yeah he got his revenge, but now he's getting married to a porn star (Winter Ave Zoli) but has to spend the next year and a half in jail before he can bang her again. In case you're a raging douchebag and missed it, here's an excellent recap of the season finale. Plus it introduces you to some new vocabulary: Glasgow smile.
A few people have written in regarding the situation surrounding Mark Perko. He's the guy who bought the storage contents of the late Marine Sgt. Jeannette Winters, who was the first woman to die in the WOT in early 2002. Buying said contents isn't what made him famous, his refusal to give them back to the family is what garnished all the attention. But me thinks there was a whole lot more to that story than meets the eye, so I decided to sit on it for awhile and see what happens. Sure enough, two days later, everything worked itself out. I still think Perko is a douchebag -- heres's a radio interview where he tries to deflect some of the incoming hostility -- but me thinks some of what he was saying is true.
16 year old Holland Reynolds showed unbelievable determination after collapsing two yards from the finish line. She rejects any help, knowing that if she is touched she will be disqualified. She then drags herself across the finish line winning her team the state championship. All in honor of her coach who has Lou Gehrig’s disease. Here's an interview she gave later on.
Merriam-Webster defines thank you as "a polite expression of one's gratitude."
Lieutenant Commander William M. Hobby, Jr., wrote as follows: On the morning of Sunday, December 7, 1941, the OKLAHOMA was secured at berth F-5, Pearl Harbor, outboard of the MARYLAND and starboard side of the MARYLAND. Commander J. L. Kenworthy was senior officer on board, and I was second in command. At about 0800 I heard the word over the loud speaker to man the anti-aircraft battery, then shots from an indeterminate direction, then a second time the word to man the antiaircraft battery for a real attack. As I was going topside the word was passed to man all battle stations. I ran up the starboard side out to the main deck aft by the break of the deck. Before I reached the main deck aft there was a din of gunfire and explosions from all directions.
Let me begin by saying that I was a little unsure of posting the story of Airman Doe at all, or at the very least, not until after this year's campaign had finished. Again -- broken record time -- that situation unfolded in a rather unusual and unpredictable way, and is anything but the norm. But then I remembered something. That despite the fact that LBEH has taken on a life of its own -- own domain name, tax id, bank account, debit card, Amex card -- it was brought into this world from EHOWA's loins. And while I no longer dedicate each post during the month of December to how LBEH is doing, I think it's important I keep you the EHOWA Army, up to snuff on how shit plays out. Ultimately, it was this realization that finally convinced me to turn the Ballad of Airman Joe into a full on blog post, instead of just an obsure Facebook reference.
To me, Wikileaks is a series of grey areas; nothing is really a clear cut black and white. On one hand I find it difficult to condone any entity that's passing out classified US documents. On the other hand, I'm reluctant to label them a terrorist organization simply for exposing the truth on some matters. For the last ten years or so -- ever since the Patriot Act was enacted into law -- our federal government has been spying on us to some degree. In fact when I sold Earl back in 2008, one of the things Tim-Not-Timmy said to me was that he found it offensive that he couldn't take more than $5,000 cash out of his account without Uncle Sam being notified about it. Our emails get intercepted, our phone calls get tapped, and don't even fucking get me started on TSA. But all the while, we're told, "if you're not doing anything wrong, you have nothing to worry about." And while I think it was a necessary evil in the months and even a few years following 9/11, I think it's more than worn out its welcome. I'm not suggesting that G-men in trench coats lurk around every corner, but let's be honest, we have no real choice in the matter. Because your only real alternative to letting Uncle Sam sneak a peek into your life, is to drop off the grid and live out in some shack next to the Unabomber. That obviously won't work for me, as I enjoy having Five Guys in my mouth whenever possible.
So I have a question for your California gun owers and high capacity handgun magazines. When Mel Gibson was dishing out some home correction to his wife, the cops came and confiscated all of his firearms because it was a domestic abuse situation. And while I applaud Mel for taking the zombie apocaslypse quite seriously, I thought you guys couldn't have any magazine with a capacity over 10 rounds (e.g. the 92FS mag)?
LBEH was featured on Fox News this past weekend -- and not the little pussy local affiliates -- I mean on the mothership. Kat did awesome in her first national interview, and they did a nice follow up as well. What did that translate to for us? Over 17,000 in donations in a single day. So I never thought I'd say this, but THANK YOU FOX NEWS.
Wow, this FOX News stuff is really kicking my ass. LBEH turned from 4-5 hours a day to 8-9 hours a day ever since the story aired on Sunday.
A man goes to the doctor and tells him that he hasn't been feeling well. The doctor examines him, leaves the room and comes back with three different bottles of pills. The doctor says, "Take the green pill with a big glass of water when you get up. Take the blue pill with a big glass of water after lunch. Then just before going to bed, take the red pill with another big glass of water." Startled to be put on so much medicine the man stammers, "Jeez doc, exactly what's my problem?" Doctor says, "You're not drinking enough water."
"Three days ago I wrote about 3/5 and the heavy casualties they are suffering in Afghanistan. In that post I mentioned that one of the Marine KIA’s was the son of Lt. Gen John Kelly. Four days after his son’s death, General Kelly spoke to the Semper Fi Society of St. Louis, Missouri. The grieving father did not take the opportunity to speak of his own son’s sacrifice, of his own loss and pain. Rather he spoke of Lance Cpl. Jordan Haerter and Cpl. Jonathan T. Yale. Even in his grief Gen. Kelly knows that it is not about his own personal loss, but about sacrificing for others. He knows that warriors do what they do not for themselves, or for personal glory. They do it for others. For their buddies, for their families, for strangers." Read more. trust me, you want to.
One thing that drives me absolutely batshit crazy are all the innocuous rules that seemed to have no fucking reason for being there, other than some bored person though making up some rule would somehow justify their existance. I understand there had to be some rules, of course. But it was the stupid and pointless ones that really used to break my balls. One of the things that used to make them easier for me to swallow, is if someone would explain to me the reasoning behind said rule. Take for example a speed limit. Why the fuck is the speed limit on the road outside of my house only 35mph? Did some bureaucratic asshole just pick some arbitrary number? Actually no. That speed is the result of calculations that take into account things such as the average driver reaction time, the distance of the houses to the side of the road, any curves or blind spots in the road, the average vehicle weight and stopping distance, and a handful of other factors that would dictate how far and how fast a vehicle could stop in that particularsection of road. Furthermore, that speed limit has been increased from 30mph to 35mph, to account for new safety technologies such as four-wheel anti-lock brakes, electronic skid protection, electronic stability control and pre-crash safety systems. Oh, well, now my speed limit makes sense, right?
The Victory truck loaded with all of the 2011 demo models had made its way down to my local Victory dealership this past weekend, so of course I had to shoot down for some rides. The first bike I went out on was the new Cross Roads, and to be honest, I didn't like it. It felt 'toyish' to me; and it sounded like the Yamaha I had traded up from two years ago. At almost 750 lbs it's heavier than my Hammer and I felt every bit of it. Next I went out on a new Hammer S which has 12 more horsepower than mine, which doesn't amount too much until you remember that's almost a 15% boost over my 2007's 85hp. Even without a windshield I felt more comfortable on the Hammer than I did the Cross Roads. Call it familiarity, whatever. But this year I decided to try and tame the beast that scared me last year: the big ass Victory Vision. I think I commented last year that at slow speeds it felt like I was trying to balance Greyhound bus on two wheels. This year they had something else to try, the Vision 8-Ball which is lowered 2" from the larger Touring model, and doesn't have the truck so it's less top heavy. And I got to stretch my legs out, play with the windshield a little and let me tell you... that was one smoooooooooth ride. Daddy likes. The one down side: no radio. But having worked up my courage a bit, I gave the big Touring a run again and I was much more comfortable on this year. Slow speeds were still kind of squirrely but I didn't have the pucker-factor that I faced last year. And while it did have a radio -- a pretty kick ass radio I might add -- I wasn't about to try and fuck with the controls while I'm out on a demo ride. So I was stuck listening to whatever the guy before me was listening to which happened to be a variety station. It started out okay, with Bad Company telling me they Feel Like Making Love, and then Outkast cheering me with Hey Ya! The sun was shining, it was warm, there was a little breeze in the stubble on my head. Life was good.
I set my alarm for 3:00am this morning so I could get up and look at the first solar eclipse on the winter solstance in like 500 trillion zillion years. As the alarm klaxon sounded, I yawned and I pulled on my robe and my Croc Mammoths, and ventured outside into the 55 degree early morning air. I walked halfway around the house before spotting the moon in what I would guess to be about 90% full red eclipse. I looked at it for a few seconds, shrugged and went back into the house. I stopped off at the refrigerator and drank a few swallows of cold water before returning to bed. Ike had moved into my spot and I had to push him aside. This morning when the alarm went off at 5:30am, I was dogshit tired from having my sleep interrupted. Ike on the other hand, was a spring chicken. Who's the smarter one again? Right. It would have been much easier to just wait and find some eclipse pictures online.
Well, either that or a fair show at Scarlett Johansson. Either or works for me as a nice Christmas surprise.
I was a huge fan of HBO's The Wire. In fact now that I think about it, I'm a fan of most of HBO's gritty series: The Wire, Oz, The Sopranos, Deadwood, Weastbound and Down, and to a certain degree, Entourage. The latter is kind of like Sex in the City, for men. But getting back to The Wire, its interesting to see how those careers continued on while others have fallen off into obsurity. Lance Reddick (Cedric Daniels) is currently starring on the hit TV show Fringe. Seth Gilliam (he played Carver, but sorry Seth is a weird name for a black guy) has kind of bounced around with no real stability. I just watched Dominic West in Centurion. Aidan Gillen played Mayor Tommy Carcetti.... wait, who? Exactly. Domenick Lombardozzi (Herc) scored a few guest appearances on Entourage, but nothing else of real substance. Michael Williams - muthafuckin OMAR - has returned to HBO not buidling bookcases on Boardwalk Empire. Michael Kostroff -- aka Mauruce Levy, Esquire -- is on a series called Sonny With a Chance? I dunno, never seen or heard of it. Isiah Whitlock, sheeeeeeeeeet, you probably know him as State Senator Clay Davis? he's got a supporting role in a new movie called Cedar Rapids where he makes a not-so-subtle reference to The Wire. Although I think the most promising part about that movie will be seeing Anne Heche's tits even if you do need a Valtrex prescription. And finally, Marlo stanfield had a role on Heroes, but nothing since. I just wish they had included Idris Elba (Stringer Bell), who was in a movie that I thought was fucking awesome.
Wow, tomorrow is Christmas already. Christ did this year just fucking fly by, or what?
I've got some family coming down for a visit this week -- they're fucking driving so who knows when they're going to getr here with that storm kicking ass up the coast -- but we're going to be taking it a little easy this week. Not very hospitable of me to invite them down and then spend the week chained to a keyboard, ya know what I mean? So this week I'll be carrying on my annual tradiction of posting all the pictures and links I've got left over in the 2010 stockpile so we can start shit off nice and new in 2011.
Every year, this guy's dad would tape them coming down the stairs. This is a compilation of all the videos the son could find. Relatives and pets grow up and disappear, and new extended family members appear in their place.
My pool is heated by a heat pump, which while being reasonably energy efficient, isn't terribly effective in colder weather. The way it works is to draw in outside air and compress it down -- remember Boyle's law which states that as you increase the pressure you also increase the temperature -- and that warmed compressed air is what is used to heat the pool water. It puts out 108,000 BTUs of heat per hour, thus it can heat 108,000 pounds of water one degree in one hour. Water is roughly 8 1/3 lbs per gallon, and my pool is about 17,000 gallons, thus running full tilt my pool is heated 0.76 degrees per hour. So if I were to run it for an 8 hour day, that's 6 degrees warmer under ideal conditions. Which is awesome when the air temperature is in the ballpark of the water temperature so the colder air isn't sapping heat out of the water just as quickly as the pool heater puts it in. But such has not been the case over the last three days when its been dipping into the 30's overnight. So the pool goes up 6 degrees during the day and down 4 degrees at night; and that's with a solar blanket on top of the entire pool. So where as I had intended to have a nice 80 degree pool when my bro and his fam arrived the day before yesterday, they were in instead greeted by some nice 69 degree water. Granted, for two days before the New Year that's still not bad given you poor fuckers up North are under two feet of snow, I had just hoped for something a little more Florida'esque.