Very simple idea. 1000 NordicTrak exercise machines (identical to the one in my basement) are bought by the Government and shipped to the detainee camp in Guantanamo bay. The "Enemy Combatants" are forced at gunpoint to use them at, let's say, 45 minute sessions maintaining an average of 6.5 MPH, three times a day. Not enough to kill a man...but goddamn close.
For every name they release (and I guarantee you they will), they are allowed to drop the required average MPH by 1 MPH. Each will immediately recognize the folly of their pursuits, and soon be lazily cross-country skiing at a 3-4 Mph pace, having divulged the names of at least 2 fellow terrorists. Multiply that by 1000, and you have real progress.
What can the press or the Public say about that? The Nordic track is not a recognized torture device (though it surely qualifies), and you are bettering the health of the detainee population. Radical Muslim Extremists would be terrified of any Western technology after being forced to use a NordicTrak. Jihad would be called for against Scandinavian Countries for the act of inventing cross-country skiing; gaining us valuable allies in the War on Terror. Soon we could airdrop thousands of machines into the border regions of Afghanistan...broadcast NordicTrak commercials into Iran as a deterrent...even send one as a gift to President Pervez M. in Pakistan with a wink and a smile.
It's all very simple, and if you have ever seriously used one of these machines you know it to be true...YOU WILL DO ANYTHING IN YOUR POWER TO GET OFF THE FRICKEN THING!
Foolproof.
Monday, April 09, 2007
Happy Day After Easter
Easter came and went yesterday, seeing me spend it with my parents for the first time in many years. Normally Jodi and I go to her parents house on the shores of Green Bay for a large family reunion/Easter meal...but this year I felt different about going. Too many people asking too many questions; too few explanations and answers. I felt safer celebrating with my parents, who know exactly what the score is and why I am where I am.
So she went to Green Bay and I stayed home. Of course she took the dog, so it was just me and the little man (scotch) left to bachelor it for the weekend. Not that hard when all you are doing is exercising and counting calories. I managed to clean the house...that's about it. I blew my diet on my Mom's wonderful cooking and it was worth E V E R Y bite.
So she went to Green Bay and I stayed home. Of course she took the dog, so it was just me and the little man (scotch) left to bachelor it for the weekend. Not that hard when all you are doing is exercising and counting calories. I managed to clean the house...that's about it. I blew my diet on my Mom's wonderful cooking and it was worth E V E R Y bite.
Saturday, April 07, 2007
Turkey Hunt
If you took a mans scrotum complete with twin berries, chafed it up with a rasp, infected it with smallpox, scalded it in boiling water, then beat it black and blue with a ball bat....you would have a reasonable representation of the head of Meleagris gallopavo...The North American Wild Turkey.
Unquestionably..from the chest up..THE ugliest fucking bird on the planet. I shot this one a couple of weeks ago because, despite the looks, the eats are great.
That's John K's son Zach on the right with his similarly ugly Tom.
Shiftless
one of the things I miss about working (yes I am STILL sans job), was that I was inevitably parked in front of my computer all day. If I had a thought...or some would say the absence of one...I could post it on here as it happened. Now I am running around somewhere tying up loose ends, and I think something, and say "That needs to be blogged", but I always have something else on my mind when I actually COULD do it.
You, the faithful, suffer as a result.
While that may not be quite the truth, we all know that a daily step into Gomer's Pyle is just the olfactory assault you need to finally come to grips with the fact that your life is not quite so rank as you thought. The deliciously oozy feeling you get when the Pyle is forced between your toes, serves as a constant reminder that they do, really, need to be washed occasionally. For your own well being.
So...prepare for the treatment. Gomer's Spa has just the right Eau de Pyle' to bring you to aromatherapy nirvana. A catch-up session packing 100% of the U.S. RDA of pungent, shiftless, nonsensical, blogging claptrap.
1. Since my last post the snow is gone. It's now brown and ugly...but that much closer to fishing season.
2. Since my last post, I have sold the gun I creamed my jeans over last summer because I did not really like it. The money will be applied to wine...which I am quite sure I enjoy.
3. I have a line on a job...even a damned good looking resume', but nobody has seen it yet. (I keep telling myself it might work that way if I will it enough.)
4. My tournament partner and I have secured another paying sponsor to our fishing season. That is an incredible financial relief. Now only a paltry 73% of our costs remain uncovered. No fucking wonder I went out of business.
5. I've sold a few more fishing rods for less than it cost me to build them...ditto #4.
6. Maximum Impact Rods is sponsoring a spring-league sporting clays team, of which I am of course a member. Never mind that it costs $225 to sponsor the team, and I don't really have a business, nor any kind of offsetting income. Ditto #4...but I thought the shirts would look cool.
7. I am finally exercising. This is a fact evidenced by my belts becoming too big. I have attacked the process with my usual freakish obessionism, which conclusively has contributed to my nearly broken ankle, pulled leg muscles and tender buttocks. It is also making me much more regular...which in turn...makes your daily dose of Gomer's Pyle easier to obtain. (No Hawaii or Alaskan orders please...I am currently shipping only to the contiguous 48.)
8. Last but not least...I think I am feeling more optimistic about my future. The combination of the good looking resume' along with the regular exercises, has proven to me that I am finally of the mindset to grab the bull by the balls and risk the goring. I may just get a job, quit thinking about fishing 24 hours a day, and re-enter society.
I said I may. Digging deep enough into the Pyle reveals plenty 'nuff self loathing left to keep your feet happy for a while. I think I will go fishing.
You, the faithful, suffer as a result.
While that may not be quite the truth, we all know that a daily step into Gomer's Pyle is just the olfactory assault you need to finally come to grips with the fact that your life is not quite so rank as you thought. The deliciously oozy feeling you get when the Pyle is forced between your toes, serves as a constant reminder that they do, really, need to be washed occasionally. For your own well being.
So...prepare for the treatment. Gomer's Spa has just the right Eau de Pyle' to bring you to aromatherapy nirvana. A catch-up session packing 100% of the U.S. RDA of pungent, shiftless, nonsensical, blogging claptrap.
1. Since my last post the snow is gone. It's now brown and ugly...but that much closer to fishing season.
2. Since my last post, I have sold the gun I creamed my jeans over last summer because I did not really like it. The money will be applied to wine...which I am quite sure I enjoy.
3. I have a line on a job...even a damned good looking resume', but nobody has seen it yet. (I keep telling myself it might work that way if I will it enough.)
4. My tournament partner and I have secured another paying sponsor to our fishing season. That is an incredible financial relief. Now only a paltry 73% of our costs remain uncovered. No fucking wonder I went out of business.
5. I've sold a few more fishing rods for less than it cost me to build them...ditto #4.
6. Maximum Impact Rods is sponsoring a spring-league sporting clays team, of which I am of course a member. Never mind that it costs $225 to sponsor the team, and I don't really have a business, nor any kind of offsetting income. Ditto #4...but I thought the shirts would look cool.
7. I am finally exercising. This is a fact evidenced by my belts becoming too big. I have attacked the process with my usual freakish obessionism, which conclusively has contributed to my nearly broken ankle, pulled leg muscles and tender buttocks. It is also making me much more regular...which in turn...makes your daily dose of Gomer's Pyle easier to obtain. (No Hawaii or Alaskan orders please...I am currently shipping only to the contiguous 48.)
8. Last but not least...I think I am feeling more optimistic about my future. The combination of the good looking resume' along with the regular exercises, has proven to me that I am finally of the mindset to grab the bull by the balls and risk the goring. I may just get a job, quit thinking about fishing 24 hours a day, and re-enter society.
I said I may. Digging deep enough into the Pyle reveals plenty 'nuff self loathing left to keep your feet happy for a while. I think I will go fishing.
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