vegan, it's not meh

Just so there are no mistakes regarding the title of this post. I'm a carnivore. I don't simply like meat - I love it. If there was a cow in here right now I'd bite a hunk out of it's ass and make a sandwich.

Ok, now that we got that straight.

Last week I was invited out to lunch with some coworkers, considering the day I was having some time away from the cubicle walls sounded like a good deal. This changed once I got in the car... turns out we were heading for the only vegan place within 30 miles. Actually, it may be further than 30 miles. I have no idea since I didn't even know this place existed.

Great, so now I'm thinking about all the shapes you can form soy into. I was imagining the menu would be:

1. Cold Soy topped with spinach and fig leaves
2. Warm Soy with bean curd dressing
3. Soy with lawn clippings

I'm all into trying something new, but honestly I was just hoping they had bread and maybe I could stop for a burger on the way back.

I have no idea where this preconception came from. I still don't even know what the word means and I have a feeling if I googled it I still wouldn't.

But you know what? It was actually pretty good. Turns out they had a great grilled tortilla wrap. They even had a barbecue sandwich (this one was a little confusing for me).

To my local steakhouse - don't worry, I'll be back to eat my weight in beef soon enough.

Maybe next time I'll try the soy. Ha, just kidding.

and the 7th edition winner is.....

Congratulations DMLD! Your cool award is below, feel free to add it to your mantle.

Man, I had to move the sign away from the haunted house and found a great little park near my house to place it. I swear I found ghost crap all over the sign from last week, I didn't even know there was such a thing.

Ya'll crack me up, I found myself laughing like an idiot reading those. Coming in second and third were Dad to Two & Diesel.

DMLD, sorry... I couldn't find you on Entrecard so I can't award you with the credits. If you do have one at some point let me know and I'd love to start you off with 500 credits.

DMLD's Caption:

"Hey honey, your girlfriend called . . . and by the way, I parked your car in the pool."

Your Award:

The ultra cool and Greenlands #1 most coveted award!

I realize this size might be a bit much, so I've included a couple of smaller versions:

150x178 version

108x121 version

Enjoy!

dude, caption this - 7th edition

Alright, time to rock with another caption contest. Leave your caption in the comments, judging to occur Friday night - winners get all kinds of cool stuff including 500 Entrecard credits, your name in lights and bragging rights!

~ your caption here ~

more stupid crap... dude

The other day I was tagged and revealed 7 things people might not know about me. I admit however that I only scraped the surface of my neurosis.

At the risk of uncomfortable silence and the "dude, your freaking nuts" look... by special request here is another glimpse.

1. I can't use the restroom until I lift the lid and check for spiders. When I was maybe 10 I overheard one of my mom's friends talk about getting bitten by a black widow spider while sitting on the john. That simple comment has tormented me for at least 30 years.

2. I can't drink a beer or drink without raising my glass to cheers someone first. If I'm alone I still have to raise my glass before I can take so much as a sip.

3. Since I was a kid I didn't think I would live to 40, so everyday now is a gimme. That feeling was so strong that for 2 years before I turned 40 I wondered everyday if it was that day.

4. For some reason, money in my pocket is easier to spend than money in my wallet. Speaking of money in my pocket... bills go in my left pocket, coins in the right. Never mixed. Ever. I also have to make sure the bills are facing the same way and from highest to lowest.

5. When I pass a cop, even if I'm not doing anything wrong, I pretend to yawn, scratch my head or mess with the radio so I look like their presence doesn't concern me. I have no idea why I do that.

6. If I'm eating alone in a restaurant I look around and check my watch like I'm waiting on someone, sometimes I even mutter to myself when I'm doing that. No clue why.

7. When my credit card is being authorized I curl my toes up and my teeth clinch thinking it might be denied.

8. I never use my real name if I have to give it when ordering food.

happy birthday devil dogs

The Marines I have seen around the world have the cleanest bodies, the filthiest minds, the highest morale, and the lowest morals of any group of animals I have ever seen. Thank God for the United States Marine Corps!
Eleanor Roosevelt, First Lady of the United States, 1945

Today I take a break from my normal posts to honor the few, the proud. To my brothers and sisters, past and present. Happy Birthday Marines!

233 years ago today on November 10, 1775, the Continental Congress passed a resolution stating that "two Battalions of Marines be raised". Since then Marines have participated in every major battle, in every clime and place with honor, courage and commitment.

To me this day, this birthday, holds more importance to me than my own. I don't say that with bravado or ego, I say it because I could never pay back what the Corps provided to me.

Each year I recall a day in mid July 1984. I had been in bootcamp for about a month by that point and still had 2 more to go before earning the Eagle, Globe and Anchor. I was standing alone outside the chow hall waiting for the rest of my platoon. I was nothing more than a sorry ass, beaten down lump of shit. It was by far my lowest point ever. I didn't trust that I knew my name, I didn't trust that I knew where I came from. I felt as though I had been ripped down to my core, I literally had nothing left.

Except for one thing. I wanted to be a Marine more than ever.

On that day, literally at that moment, I knew I had been broken. I realized from that point forward I would never be the same.

I know the Corps isn't for everyone and I know some fellow Marines may not have hit the depths I discovered that day, but for me it's what has helped define me as a person ever since. For that I will be forever in debt to my beloved Corps and fellow Marines.

Tonight I will find a bar, toast a few to my leatherneck brothers and sisters, think about that day and the sacrifices of the hero's who paid the highest price so we could live free.

I haven't missed a birthday toast in the past 24 years and I know I will continue till the day I wear my dress blues for the last time.... even if they do have to split it up the back to make it fit.

Semper Fi Marines, carry on!

Good night Chesty, wherever you are.

i've been tagged and stuffed

I'm a little remiss in my blogging duties. On October 20th I was tagged by the incomparable AngieSS over at CupofSnarky.com.

Just like when I was a kid and hid under the bed till I pissed my pants but I still ended up being it. This time it took me a couple of weeks to get out from under the bed since I had to wait for my pants to dry.

Ok, so here goes. I have to tell you seven things about myself that you don't already know and avoid federal prosecution in the process... and then I get to find seven others hiding behind trees and doors to tag their ass.

1. I was in Life magazine on my hands and knees in the mud and it wasn't in a bar with a stripper named Jasmine. Don't believe me? If you happen to have a September 1985 edition laying around... (don't we all?) check out page 25.

2. I'm a hypocrite when it comes to formal education and I pray my kids never find out. I sucked in school, I never took anything more than the fundamentals of math and almost didn't graduate high school. I never attended college other than a couple of years of night school art/design classes. My english teacher would have a stroke to learn I'm doing this blog, I have no memory whatsoever of doing homework and I've never seen the SAT. However, it's not something that has kept me down, I work in a profession filled with MBA's and I hate the question "What school did you go to?". Saying that most of what I've learned has come from the History Channel/Discovery/National Geographic/Science Channel isn't a joke.

3. I may have some degree of OCD. I eat sandwiches into perfect little squares and then fold them in half and repeat. I lock the doors of my house at least 3 times every night and then get out of bed to check them again. I won't eat food off anyone's plate for any reason. I eat the broken chips first and then each chip in sequence from smallest to largest or by color. I subconsciously sort things by size/color/shape.

4. I'm terrified of heights. Actually saying that isn't enough, I become incapacitated at any height over 10 feet or even the thought of it. I recently went out on the 7th floor balcony where I work and become so incapacitated I thought of calling someone inside the building to come get me back to the door.

5. I grew up with Owen and Luke Wilson. Back then they were just the kids a few doors down, little did I know... Hey Owen, give me a call bro (ha).

6. I sweat when I have to spend over $100 for any reason. I'm not a penny-pincher by any means, I just can't get spend that much without my heart rate increasing even if I have the money.

7. In the 5th grade I thought I was an eagle. I used to turn my head from side-to-side in quick bird-like fashion, stare for bit and then turn quickly to the other side. I thought it impressed my teachers but it may have been the subject of parent/teacher conferences without my knowledge.

Ok, so now the fun part. I get to pick some people who will be bitching my name in a few days.

I would really like to know 7 things from.....

1. Planckspost
2. DebbieDoesDrivel
3. ReformingGeek
4. DeadRooster
5. Road Atlas Shrugged
6. The Humor Smith Chronicle
7. PlainOleMike

tuesday rant - 9th edition

So, here we are again on a Tuesday night. For me it's a Tuesday following the big race weekend at Texas Motor Speedway - that's right, the bi-annual Redneck Mardi Gras I posted about last Friday.

Real quick on the "races", Crown Royal should be enjoyed in moderation and some people should keep their clothes on (you know who you are).

I know last Tuesday I was a calm Dad-theDude and asked, no begged for rant ideas. I want to thank the following people for those ideas:

PlancksPost - Heinous - ReformingGeek - deb - colleen - texas mama

I was all set to pick one and roll out the rant barrel for today.

Then last Friday happened.

I woke up Friday morning with the belief that at some point during the night I must have found a bucket of fire and stuck my foot into it and then hit it with a hammer. You know how light a 200 thread count sheet is? Well my friends that weight alone put me through the ceiling.

I dragged my sorry ass up to the quack-in-a-box where the doctors have name tags on that are written with a Sharpie and attached using a safety pin and guess what... I have gout.

Yea, that's right. I said gout. The same disease that until a few days ago I thought was limited only to people who drink Geritol and wear their pants up to their armpits. Apparently, I was wrong in that assumption.

This is where it really pisses me off. The conversation with the doctor goes like this:

Doc - do you eat protein?
Me - uh... yea. I actually eat huge amounts of protein. I'm into consuming meat, I'm a carnivore.
Doc - protein contains what your kidneys can't process and that can trigger gout.
Me - uh...
Doc - do you drink beer?
Me - .... can you repeat the question? Do I drink beer?
Doc - yes, do you drink?
Me - (apparently she doesn't know me) . Yes... some (come on, who ever told the doctor the truth with that question?)
Doc - yea, you will need to quit that as well. It can trigger gout.

uh - what?

Now this was Friday morning. Within 3 hours of this conversation I was due to arrive at perhaps the only place within 1,000 miles where the only purpose is:

1. Beer.
2. Protein.
3. Walking for miles to get more beer and protein.

I'll be damned if my toe blowing up is going to stop me from seeing drunk-ass rednecks and cars making left hand turns - so I asked for a pill. Besides, I already had an 18 pack on ice.

This is such bullshit. Who in the hell came up with something where meat, beer and just about everything else worth a crap can cause your joints to become nuclear fuel? Shit!

redneck mardi gras

If "Mardi gras" is french for "Fat Tuesday", then "Redneck Mardi Gras" is southern for "Drunk-Ass Redneck at NASCAR".

There are two times a year when I pull down the collar and let my redneck show, both happen to coincide with NASCAR coming to Texas Motor Speedway. Odd how that is...

Every April and November Texas Motor Speedway is visited by some 250,000 people, that means a combined total of 1,500,000 teeth and 1,025,000 cases of beer. I can make fun of that since that's exactly where my happy ass will be... I average on the higher side for total number of teeth in case your wondering.

However, this doesn't mean I actually know anything about NASCAR. I don't have "my driver", I don't know the tire pressure, the temperature of the track, how important adjustments to the sway bar is or why they only make left hand turns.

What I do know is that it's a great 3 days spent with the guys where extremely loud cars go really fast, the beer flows freely and you know all 250,000 people.

At the time this posts, I'm in the process of pouring ice into a cooler and pretending I know where everyone stands in the race for the cup. For the next 3 days I'll be living in a camper with 16 other guys placing bets on the first car to pit, the first to wreck, the first to make a right hand turn and generally trying to find the bottom of my cooler.

I can't wait!

If you happen to be out at Texas Motor Speedway this weekend, drop by. I'll share a beer with you. I'll be the guy wearing a black hat around the area below or the one pulling a cooler in the infield at night - I'm sure you can find me without any problem ;)

If not, then leave me a comment. I'll get it on my redneck blackberry.

and the 6th edition winner is.....

Congratulations Colleen! Your cool award is below, feel free to add it to your mantle.

It was hell moving the shark and crap in the water sign from the beach to the front-yard of a haunted house, I might never be the same.

This was the toughest yet! There were some really funny submissions, coming in second and third were Ettarose and DaOldMan.

Colleen, I couldn't find you on Entrecard. If you are there let me know and I'll give you 500 credits. Since I couldn't award those credits... I'm splitting it into the top 5:

Ettarose - 250 credits

DaOldMan - 250 credits

Planckspost - 200 credits

UselessMan - 200 credits

Colleen's Caption:

An occurance rarely seen in the world of Rock and Roll - a double white-man overbite..

Your Award:

The way cool and now internationally famous Cool Blog Award!

I realize this size might be a bit much, so I've included a couple smaller versions:

150x178 version

108x121 version

Enjoy!

Tomorrow's post (late afternoon) - redneck mardi gras

dude, caption this - 6th edition

In this special halloween caption this I've added a new prize.

Not only will your name be in lights, this time at a haunted house... and the cool blog award for your mantle... but as an added feature for those Entrecard users - the winner gets 500 Dad-theDude EC credits!

Judging on Thursday.

~your caption here~

tuesday rant - 8th edition... sorta

I admit it, this Tuesday finds me a calm Dad-theDude. It doesn't happen often, it might have something to do with being a little hung over from the weekend.

Other than banging my head on the wall trying to prepare for this years holiday season (I work in retail) and a few normal things.. like thinking about playing dominoes with the cones and barrels they use to shut off a lane in rush hour traffic on I-35 going towards my work and dying a little inside each time someone says "....hey, you got a minute....", my mind is a cold dark place today.

So, I need you. I need my own version of a stimulus package, I need rant topics.

Provide them in the comments below and next Tuesday not only will I rant and shake the walls... I'll give a huge shout out to the topic I pick.

ps - I hope you noticed that I said "...I need a stimulus package" with a straight face. That was tough. In truth I was chuckling as I wrote that... damn 14 year old mind.

can we just punt?

I've never posted specifically about politics. Just not me, I don't ~really~ hang my hat on a particular party or someone nuts enough to run for commander-in-chief. I just try and pick the one that isn't as jacked up as the other.

I take that back. Back in the '92 race I had to vote really early since I was overseas and Perot hadn't started speaking in tongues yet... within a week after voting he imploded and his head started spinning around 360 degrees. Lessons are learned through mistakes. Right?

I've had it up to here with this election
(place your hand under your chin for the full effect - it's an interactive post).

It's not that I don't take voting seriously, I do. I won't even vote early now since I want the full experience of standing in line at the elementary school and playing the 'I wonder who that dude will vote for' game. For me, placing a vote is like horse racing - I'd rather be at the track with the smell of the horses in the air instead of some room in Vegas watching it on TV. Either way, I'm still placing my money on a horse's ass.

Seriously, if I see one more blog or "news" segment about the election (after this post), I'll puke on the screen. Let's just get this over with now. I propose we all meet at a bar and the candidate who can do the most shots in 30 minutes while still talking out of the side of their mouth wins. Hell, I'll buy.

I for one hope Joe "the jackass" Biden has something else to do that day 'cause I'll be forced to kick his ass after I get a few beers in me (hell, I'll do it sober). But as I think about it, Palin doing shots would be kinda cool. I got a side bet that says 5 shots in she dances topless on the table and gives Joe the plumber a lap dance - any takers?

If you are interested in playing the 'I wonder who that dude will vote for game' while standing in line to vote this year, you should know it's based on 3 things:

• Haircut - 60% of the weight
• Shoes - 25% of the weight
• Visible tattoos - 15% of the weight

I'll leave it up to you to determine which is which.

and the 5th edition winner is.....

Congratulations LifeTimeMom! Your cool award is below, feel free to add it to your mantle.

Very tough! DanBrantley and Ettarose came in second and third and caused me to have a case of carpal tunnel by shaking the 8-ball to make that call (I ended up getting professional help - on the selection... not my wrists). Maybe it wasn't the 8-ball come to think of it...

It was getting a bit chilly out while painting that sign on the beach, but I'm here for you guys. Besides, I was on a beach and had a six-pack of Shiner Bock. You can't go wrong there.

Thanks everyone, you all crack me up.

LifeTimeMom's caption:

Okay Dad!! I promise to wear my seatbelt ALL THE TIME!!!

Your Award:

The ultra cool - Cool Blog Award!

I realize this size, while perfect for framing, it may be too large for those with size challenges, so I included some wallet-sized versions below.

150x178 version

108x121 version

Enjoy!

Tomorrow's post - "can we just punt?"

tuesday rant - 7th edition

You know, up until yesterday morning I didn't have a rant living inside me.


I was coming off a great weekend, the weather is a little cooler, my pants fit and I found an ironed shirt in the closet before my mad dash to work. It was a damn trifecta. I was a calm Dad - the Dude.


Stupid-ass rock hauler crushed my dream of the perfect Monday and awoke the rant section of my brain in less than 2 seconds flat.


How is it that these trucks are allowed on the highway? Seriously, how did they get pass the department of transportation with this request:


We will be operating an 18-wheeled vehicle on the nations highways which from time-to-time will throw hard irregular shaped objects onto the road surface at speeds in excess of 80 mph with the desired effect of causing drivers following said vehicle to swerve out of their lanes to avoid said objects from landing in their laps. Further, we will place signs on said vehicles informing drivers to stay back 200 feet, however the driver must be within 50 feet to read it.


I don't blame the drivers, unless I ever see one laughing in the rear-view mirror at the carnage following him... I'm cool. I blame the damn trailer manufactures and whoever it is that invented son-of-a-bitchin rocks.


Dude, let me drive in peace so I can use my wireless device and drive with my knee like everyone else, that's all I ask. I don't need the high speed obstacle course or to see Andy my friendly windshield replacement guy again. Crap!

Smileys are an effective deterrent to swift moving objects.... try it out below.

top 5 things I'll burn in hell for - #1

It's now time for #1.

I watched 2 Cubans shit their uniforms.

As a young Marine I was selected for "Embassy Duty". I had visions of standing in dress blues in some exotic country and drinking beer with the locals on my off-time. Instead... I found myself in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba - aka "Gitmo".

Gitmo in '84 was not a place where you wore dress blues and drank beer with the locals. Instead this meant a year of standing on the fence line, staying out on patrol and trying to find ways of breaking the boredom by jacking with the Cubans to see if they would engage (we tried to see if they would take a shot).

The fence line in Gitmo was a no-mans land, in some areas the distance between us was over 1/2 a mile and filled with the largest minefield in the world. In other areas they were close enough to shout at across the mines.

This particular day, I was standing post very close to the Cubans. Across the mines, in a tower much like mine, stood 2 Cuban regulars (my "mirrors"). As I watched both of them watching me, we started jacking with each other. This usually meant shooting the finger, keying down the mic on their frequency... anything to pass the time.

While watching them very closely through the "Big Eyes" (large binoculars)... with both hands behind my back... a shot went off.

WHAM

Both of them dropped and went out of sight in an instant. I'm still standing, watching their tower. After a few seconds I see one AK-47, then another, then a couple of heads... pretty soon I see them pointing at me. I returned this with a simple wave above the Big Eyes.

Within 5 minutes the scene in front of me contained what might have been half the Cuban army stationed in Gitmo.

After awhile they started to disperse and once again I found myself looking across the mines at the same 2 Cubans, now standing a little lower in their post, looking at me with everything they had. Hope they had a change of clothes on their post because I think they might have needed it by that point.

Guess it's a good thing they didn't have bottles on their head.

Temperature increase in hell for 2 Cubans crapping their utilities and coming close to starting an international incident - an additional 75K degrees and a suit made of phosphorus. Well, maybe just for the international incident part.

I'd love to hear something you might be held in the deep fryer for, share it in the comments!

They carry extra rounds over at HumorBloggers.com, take a trip and tell 'em I sent ya' but drop me some smiley love below first.

top 5 things I'll burn in hell for - #2

Next in the top 5 things I'll burn in hell for... I now come clean on #2:

I burnt down a neighborhood.

As I mentioned in #4 of the things I'll burn in hell for, I lived in South Africa when I was a kid. Apparently living south of the equator doesn't agree with me since #2 also occurred where the water goes backwards when you flush. Maybe it was Apartheid, maybe it was the Zulu's, or the gold mines or the people who clicked when they talked.

Nope, I think it simply rests on the shoulders of a tow-headed kid who had to change his name because his real name meant "girl" in Afrikaans (true).

When I was about 8 I had a fascination with fire, once while trying to burn a pencil I used the couch to hold the pencil so I wouldn't burn my fingers. This resulted in burning up the couch as well - but that's a different story.

I had recently learned how to light a match by pressing it against the matchbox and flicking it, creating a burning flare that shot out like 10 feet. Dude, I was cool.

We had a huge field across from our house, on the day in question I was practicing my new found skill while walking down a path in this huge, dry field.

I walked maybe 200 feet in, flicking matches into the air when I heard an odd whooshing noise behind me. Turning around to make sure it wasn't the Zulu's attacking I saw something that looked much like the picture above roaring up the path towards me. Son-of-a-bitch! If I knew that word when I was 8 I would have used it at that moment as I sprinted towards the far end of the field.

I exited the other end of the field into a neighborhood now filling with people coming out of their houses. Thankfully their attention was fixed on the growing wildfire coming towards them and they didn't notice the scared-to-hell little tow-headed kid sprinting away like his ass was on fire.

I ran until I couldn't see the fire any longer, only the huge billowing smoke rising above the neighborhood and the fire engines racing past me in the other direction.

Thoughts of spending the rest of my life in a South African prison filled my head. Maybe they would put me in a cell next to Nelson Mandela and we could pass notes back and forth and tap on the walls to keep each other going. Well, maybe not.

Amazingly, after spending hours walking in a daze until the smoke died down I returned home to face my public flogging and NOBODY realized I was the arsonist. Turns out I didn't actually burn down any houses, but the field was burnt the hell up and I think astronauts could see it from space.

Temperature for burning down a neighborhood (well almost) - an additional 50K degrees and a backpack full of fertilizer and diesel fuel.

Tomorrow's top 5: the all important #1 - the time I almost caused a war with Cuba.

They don't play with matches over at HumorBloggers.com but their still pretty hot, check 'em out.

top 5 things I'll burn in hell for - #3

Next in the top 5 series of crap I'll burn in hell for... I now come clean on #3:

I almost killed a friend of mine.

Mike, wherever you are now bro... your tank didn't malfunction. That was actually me.

About 10,000 years ago I got really heavy into SCUBA diving while living in Okinawa, Japan. As anyone who has strapped on a BCD and a regulator before knows, the most important thing is your dive buddy. Mine was Mike, Mike was in the Navy but I still hung out with him because he worked in communications and I enjoyed trying to get him to tell me secret shit (he never did but he gave me plenty of hints).

Mike and I were preparing to dive a place called the Toilet Bowl. Yea, I know. Crappy name but it was a great place to dive because the entry and exit was so difficult it was rare to see many other divers there.

One of the steps in preparing for a dive is to do a safety check on each other, check the regulators, the tanks, the consoles... just another pair of eyes looking everything over. While I was checking his tank... I turned it off.

Let me say that again. I turned his damn tank the f$ck off.

I see you looking at me like that, in my defense it was a long walk to the entry point and we always did another safety check before making the leap. I thought I'd catch it on the next stop and give him shit about how he left his tank off. Man, that would be so cool...

Sometimes the smartass in me escapes the little box I keep it locked in and does crap I can't be held accountable for.

Well, remember when I said it was such a great dive spot because the entry was hard? Not only was it hard to get to, you had to judge the swell and jump in just at the right moment to ride the wave down about 15-20 feet. As we are walking to the entry point we got separated and to be honest I kinda forgot about the tank deal since I was concentrating on staying upright while walking across the coral. Mike gets there first and without hesitation he judges the swell and leaps into the water - straight to the bottom... with zero air.

It was then I found out it's possible to crap in a wetsuit.

I ran and jumped in right after him and got his tank turned back on. You should have seen the look on his face by that point, utter confusion and totally pissed off. We both came to the surface and the first thing he does after ripping off his mask is to start screaming about the quality of the tanks we had rented. I guess he didn't notice I had crapped my suit.

I never told him what actually happened that day. I'm sure to this day he thinks those crappy tanks went out on him right as he jumped. I shook uncontrollably for a week.

Temperature increase for jacking with my buddy's tank - an additional 25K degrees and a kerosene bath.

Tomorrow's top 5: #2 - the time I burned down a neighborhood.

They won't let you jump in with a dead tank over at HumorBloggers.com, check 'em out. They would love to go down with ya.

top 5 things I'll burn in hell for - #4

Next in the top 5 series of crap I'll burn in hell for... I now come clean on #4:

I shot bottles off the head of strangers as they walked by.

As a kid I lived in Johannesburg, South Africa (this was during the un-plugged apartheid version of South Africa during the mid 70's). My dad says he was an electrical engineer who was there to setup TV, but we know it was actually because he was in the CIA and he still won't come clean on that. My little brother was born there, I call him my African American brother.

Since my dad was there to setup a TV station (yea, right), that meant they didn't have TV there in the mid 70's. No Brady Bunch, no Gilligan's Island... nada.

So what does a kid do if they can't soak their brain with TV for 8 hours a day? Hone their shooting skills of course. Skills that would come in handy for me later in life, but that's a different story.

I had a friend who lived across the street, we'll call him Trevor (cause that was his name). Trevor had access to a pellet gun, which by itself was a bad thing because in today's world Trevor would be in a special school riding the short bus. Let's just say Trevor was a few cards short of full deck. No, let's just say Trevor was full-on batshit crazy. We got along great.

Women in South Africa at the time (and I guess even today) carried crap on their head. I don't know how this got started but I'm sure it had something to do with that clicking sound they made when they talked. When I say they carried crap, I mean they carried all kinds of things on their head - including empty bottles which I assume they were taking back to the store for a refund. The perfect target in my 9 year old mind.

Trevor and I had setup a little snipers nest in the backyard of a house a few doors down that had a perfect view on the main street and we would wait for our targets to appear.

After waiting in silence with a fully loaded, cocked and ready pellet gun, our target would appear - a women walking with several bottles on her head not more than 30 feet from us. Shhh, be veddy, veddy quiet...

POP... WHAM.... CRASH.... SCREAM...

Before you judge, consider the skill required to hit a moving target on the top of someone's head with a pellet gun. Also consider the skill to run like hell afterwards to escape the wrath of a lady who was screaming like a banshee, that is if a banshee made clicking noises when they talked.

One lesson learned from this activity, wait a little bit to ensure the target wasn't being escorted by a guy. The odds of escape after the shot is much less if this is the case.

Temperature for shooting crap off people's head - an additional 10K degrees and a container of propane.

Tomorrow is #3 - the time I almost killed a friend of mine.

They shoot crap off your head over at HumorBloggers.com - give 'em a try.

top 5 things I'll burn in hell for

Sorry guys, been underwater for a bit but I did a few safety stops to make sure I didn't get the bends and now I'm back on the surface (for all you non divers out there... sorry). I'm back

I've been thinking about some of the things I've done in the past (and now...) that will cause them to turn up the heat a little bit in hell upon my arrival. Yea, I know there are supposed to be 2 options on where you go and the other one can even include like 70 virgins if you change your name to Mohammad, but I have a t-shirt that says Marines don't die, we just go to hell to regroup - so I'm going with that and if it gets better so be it.

Top 5 things I'll burn in hell for - #5: Jacking with my grandmother.

My grandmother sends me pepper about once a month. It's not some kinda special pepper, I'm talking about plain ole ground black pepper. The kind you can find at a gas station or get in a little package from Sonic.

Why would she do that? Because she knows I like pepper and maybe at one point I told her we can't get that type of pepper here in Texas. Ok, fine. The truth is I tell her each time she sends it that we still can't get it here even though she gets it from WalMart and there is a WalMart about .2 miles from my front door.

So, every month or so I get a specially wrapped package from Oklahoma with a very large container of black pepper. Our spice cabinet now contains enough black pepper to last us a few years but I can't stop. I'm expecting another soon and I've already cleared out a little spot for it.

Temperature increase for jacking with a nice old lady - an additional 5K degrees and a cup of gasoline.

Tomorrow's top 5: # 4 - I used to shot bottles off of the head of strangers as they walked by.

Great to be back in the real world - I missed ya'll.

and the 4th edition winner is.....

Congratulations Da Old Man! Your cool award is below, feel free to add it to your mantle.

Tough one once again! Tiffany1377 and PlancksPost come in second and third and both cost me a magic 8-ball that I wore out making that call.

I'm learning how to paint the sign on the beach better now. One good coat of Killz first and the rest goes pretty quick which is a good thing cause the beach patrol is getting wise to my game.

Da Old Man's caption:

Ramon, it's running with the bulls, you moron!

Your Award:

The ultra cool - Cool Blog Award!

I realize this size, while perfect for framing, it may be too large for those with size challenges, so I included some wallet-sized versions below.

150x178 version

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Enjoy!

my tv education

I can’t decide if I grew up in the 70’s or the 80’s. Hell, I don’t think I’ve actually “grown up” even today since I still can’t tell you what I want to be when I grow up. I keep putting it off thinking someday I’ll figure it out.

I guess if I was forced, I would say I was a child of the 70’s, or rather a child of 70’s TV shows.

I recall in the 8th grade watching one of my favorite shows, Welcome Back Kotter. Since I was just a year away from high school I thought it would be just like that. I thought you would be in a class where everyone was your friend, even that snotty little bitch Judy. Your teacher would be cool and have a big afro and I could wear a denim jacket and my buddy Epstein would teach me how to write a note from my mom to get me out of anything.

That proved to be incorrect. But to the frustration of many of my teachers I tried like hell. Up your nose with a rubber hose.

The Love Boat also proved to be my undoing, but it took almost 25 years for it to hit. It wasn’t until I went on a cruise with my wife and a few of our friends several years ago. Apparently my wife didn’t watch as much of it as I did cause my 14 year old mind thought a cruise literally meant… the Love Boat. I admit I also thought we would get all dressed up and attend a dinner were we would sit with the captain and his daughter and when we watched the sunset from the side of ship the breeze would slightly blow our hair.

Damn you Captain Stubing. Damn you to hell.

Everything I know about police I learned from Barney Miller and Starsky and Hutch. But the ultimate police show was Adam-12. To this day when I see an LAPD cop on some car chase or a video beating someone I think they are either Pete or Jim out on patrol. Only they would have the case wrapped up in 30 minutes and the guilty would go down and justice would reign.

I thought I would grow up and live in an apartment building like Three’s Company. I didn’t see myself lucking out and actually living with 2 foxy chicks (I still love saying “foxy”), but I would live near them and we would hang out at the Regal Beagle with our bell bottoms, feathered hair and shirts with huge collars. I would be Jack's wingman.

The Brady Bunch taught me that the cute girl with the long golden hair will break your heart in the end and her sisters would just laugh at you if you showed up at the door on your Evil Knievel bike with the fake gas tank. Damn you Marsha, I really thought we had something.

WKRP in Cincinnati tought me that the boss is usually clueless and thats ok. I also learned that even though the really hot (sorry... foxy) chick named Jennifer sitting at the front desk is the one everyone checks out walking down the hall, the one true fox is actually Bailey and will always be.

The Dukes of Hazzard taught me that it's possible to jump a car across a 30 foot cavern from a construction site on one end and yell "yeeee haaawwww" while in midair. I never questioned if this was real. I figured if they could shoot a bow and arrow with TNT attached to it and blow crap up they could do anything. Damn you Bo Duke for making me wear my hair like that and thinking I could pull off the blue shirt unbuttoned down to there look. Good thing I never learned how to weld or my parents would have had a new door feature on the family car to go along with the scratches on the hood from me sliding across it.

There are so many other shows that shaped my view of the world in the late 70’s, but the final summary is this; the world wasn’t always clean, the people in general were cool or they could be written off, everyone would get a chance at a punch line and everything would work out in the end before the credits started rolling.

Now you can’t tell me that’s not a good education.

tuesday rant - 6th edition

... you’re reducing your Carbon Footprint. And that means you’re helping the environment so you can feel a nice warm glow....


That's an actual quote I found related to this whole "Go Green" movement we've found ourselves in for the past few years.

A movement I might add that coincided with the explosion of plastic bottled water... anyone remember water in plastic bottles you could buy in a store in say the 80's? No, how about the 90's? The only one I could think of was Evian but only guys named Antwon who wore their sweaters tied around their necks and wore shoes with no socks drank that crap.

Ok, I digressed with the bottled water deal. Here's the point, I'm not doing so well offsetting my carbon footprint basically because... well, I don't have a damn clue what the hell a carbon footprint is and I don't really care to find out.

What I do know is I toggle between the "Go Green" movement pissing me off and not being much more than background noise. It pisses me off when people or companies use it (or the term) for their own purposes. It's almost become an all purpose term meaning to do good.

For example, the trash truck that rattles through my neighborhood once a week to pickup all the half empty paint cans, used oil and old batteries everyone tosses in the trash can when they can't make it down to the storm drain is painted green and has several leaves painted on it along with the "Green" slogan of the day. I feel better about that now, thanks.

The company I work for has a green corporate building. I'm not sure what that means exactly but I know they have urinals that don't flush.

Thanks, but I'd rather go outside to piss in the smoking area than use these. I have no idea where it goes but I've spent many hours wondering that and if the cost savings justifies the means.

That's right - I said cost savings, not water savings.

I had a conversation with someone once who did organic gardening. When I mentioned that if they sold something powerful enough that it made my yard glow at night so bright the FAA could use it to guide planes but actually killed weeds - I'd use it, she gave me a look like I just whacked a bunny over the head with a lead pipe.

Does this mean I'm an earth hater? No, actually the opposite.

I actually do a lot of things people would call "Green", but I'm not going over the damn environmental cliff or bragging about it to make myself feel that nice warm glow.

I'm going outside now to put a "Green" sticker on my hummer. Damnit, first I gotta buy a Hummer...