Ok, I've decided Gomer's needs some sprucing up. Not having access to Photoshop, I've downloaded the GIMP to use as an image editor for creating some professional graphics.
Man is it hard to use...not intuitive at ALL.
Anyway, look for some changes coming soon if I can figure out the damn GIMP user interface.
Friday, April 28, 2006
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Monday, April 24, 2006
Scalded Bitch
This weekend saw the performance of a yearly Spring ritual with me...awakening the sleeping boat. All boats are female, and mine is no different. She has been slumbering and dreaming of this weekend since November of last year, nursed through the long winter by an occasional reassurance by me of the ticking clock.
On Sunday she roared to life on command, cleared her throat, and gave me the pleasure I seek this time every year...screaming scary-fast across the lake after a long winter absent of speed.
Yes she is a female, but not of the likes of a Lady Diana or Mother Theresa. She is more of the pierced, black dyed-goth-lesbian, kick your ass for fucking with her, type. Crack her 275 HP Mercury Marine race bred motor wide open, and she runs like a scalded bitch dog. It will peel your eyelids back, and literally take your breath away. She is mean, unpredictable, and hard to handle. Like most dangerous women, you have to respect her or she will hurt you...and hurt you bad. I know, because I have been thrown by her at 72MPH, and lived to tell the tale. You don't drive a Bullet boat...you fly them, and you better know WTF you're doing.
90+ MPH into a head wind while sitting at water level...now that's a fullfilling relationship.
On Sunday she roared to life on command, cleared her throat, and gave me the pleasure I seek this time every year...screaming scary-fast across the lake after a long winter absent of speed.
Yes she is a female, but not of the likes of a Lady Diana or Mother Theresa. She is more of the pierced, black dyed-goth-lesbian, kick your ass for fucking with her, type. Crack her 275 HP Mercury Marine race bred motor wide open, and she runs like a scalded bitch dog. It will peel your eyelids back, and literally take your breath away. She is mean, unpredictable, and hard to handle. Like most dangerous women, you have to respect her or she will hurt you...and hurt you bad. I know, because I have been thrown by her at 72MPH, and lived to tell the tale. You don't drive a Bullet boat...you fly them, and you better know WTF you're doing.
90+ MPH into a head wind while sitting at water level...now that's a fullfilling relationship.
The Twins Arrive
Fedex delivered two of the most beautiful babies last Friday. They were born in 2003 in Bordeaux, France...spent nearly three years learning their trade trapped in a barrel...and have come to live as foster children in Jefe's cellar until I decide to kill them sometime after 2013. Their names?
2003 Chateau Ducru Beaucaillou, St Julien.
2003 Chateau Calon-Segur, St Estephe.
I can hardly contain my desire to execute them now. A first-growth class wine from Bordeaux, in an excellent vintage, is one of life's supreme pleasures...and expenses.
Tasting notes coming in 2015. Stay tuned.
2003 Chateau Ducru Beaucaillou, St Julien.
2003 Chateau Calon-Segur, St Estephe.
I can hardly contain my desire to execute them now. A first-growth class wine from Bordeaux, in an excellent vintage, is one of life's supreme pleasures...and expenses.
Tasting notes coming in 2015. Stay tuned.
A love-hate thing
I both love and hate Spring. I love it because of it's sights and smells, and I hate it because of all the work it brings. The older I get, the more work there is in the Spring. By the time I am ready to retire, Spring will have evolved into a perpetual work season encompassing my entire year. That is really what retirement is for...full time attention to the by-then-bloated "honey do" list.
As I get older, I accumulate more "things" that need attention in the spring:
boats
buildings
plants and landscapes
fishing equipment
patio furnishings
docks
All of which increase my Spring workload; and decrease the amount of time spent savoring the reasons I really enjoy the season. When I was a child, Spring was a change in the smell of the air, a delightful change in the landscape, or a swollen creek ripe for exploration. Now it just means work; and another quarter of another year, in the too-short progression of a somewhat meaningless life.
As I get older, I accumulate more "things" that need attention in the spring:
boats
buildings
plants and landscapes
fishing equipment
patio furnishings
docks
All of which increase my Spring workload; and decrease the amount of time spent savoring the reasons I really enjoy the season. When I was a child, Spring was a change in the smell of the air, a delightful change in the landscape, or a swollen creek ripe for exploration. Now it just means work; and another quarter of another year, in the too-short progression of a somewhat meaningless life.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Hoax
My bowels are as irritable as ever...and I am actually developing a cold sore. Maybe Jodi misunderstood, and her cousin actually said manogsteen juice caused these conditions.
Looks like the mangosteen will join noni juice as just another overpriced laxative.
Looks like the mangosteen will join noni juice as just another overpriced laxative.
Give me an excuse for this
Rail on Bush all you want. Throw Rumsfeld to the wolves for all I care. Seethe in your opposition to whichever political party you currently hate. Profess abject doom and gloom over the current situation in Iraq, or skip-to-my-lou with unbridled hope...your choice.
But someone give me a reason why these BASTARDS should not be hunted down and killed. Please..someone defend this. I dare you.
If I was 20 again, I'd be on my way to enlist in the special forces just to get a crack at these pukes.
(Edit: When I posted this, the article did not contain the denials from US and Iraq sources. Time will tell if it is truly false...and I hope it is)
But someone give me a reason why these BASTARDS should not be hunted down and killed. Please..someone defend this. I dare you.
If I was 20 again, I'd be on my way to enlist in the special forces just to get a crack at these pukes.
(Edit: When I posted this, the article did not contain the denials from US and Iraq sources. Time will tell if it is truly false...and I hope it is)
Monday, April 17, 2006
Male Vs. Female Shopping
How I shop.
I walked into Door County Cycle this weekend and collected a new pair of Keen sandals, a sweater on sale for 50% off, and a new Thule bike rack for our vehicle. I knew what I wanted, and no damn salesman was going to "educate" me about various bike racks.
Total elapsed time: 5 minutes 26 seconds (including checkout).
Percent Satisfaction: 100%
Second Thoughts: NONE
Guilt factor: ZERO
Spousal approval factor: 100%
How my wife shops:
On the first of three trips to the same bike shop, I told my wife to buy the bike she was looking at because we would just be back to get that one anyway. I knew she liked it. I knew she wanted THAT bike, but she wanted to shop around a bit and do some research. We bought that same bike on the third trip back...I must be fricken Nostradamus.
On the first trip to the bike shop my wife told the salesperson she was looking for a bike that would suit her needs of casual trail riding. After being shown several very capable bikes, Jodi asks if there might be something a little more money. "I am interested in something that could be raced, you know...if I ever wanted to". I saw the salesman wipe a little drool from his chin. "Raced?" I thought. "She has never raced bikes". "She does not even know anyone who races mountain bikes". "Hell, she would not even have time to practice let alone race". WTF is she thinking, is what I am thinking at this point. With a gleam in his eye, and sensing the fulfillment of next months mortgage, the salesperson steered us to the "upgraded component" bikes. These are your $1000+ skull crackers, not the mom and pop roadsters that sell for a measly $600. She got the sales pitch for the big money wheelers, and she was convinced. Once the coolness factor of the high quality, race enabled, tough SOB bike was thoroughly ingrained...there was no turning back. All future comparisons were to be with like models, and my fate was sealed. In her mind, she was burning down the hill neck and neck with another racer; her equipment was going to be the deciding factor. At this point. I recused myself from the process in the interest of marital harmony, and let my now Olympic bike racing wife live her unquestionably never-going-to-happen statement to fruition. We were back again later that month to purchase the bike after evaluating 8 similarly equipped bikes of various manufacture.
Total elapsed time: 56 days, 7 hours, 18 minutes (including checkout).
Percent Satisfaction: 98%
Second Thoughts: YES
Guilt factor: 10%
Spousal approval factor:60%
I did, however, point out the rationale that I would now be using on MY next big ticket purchase.
Me: "Excuse me sir, I am looking for a car. One that will provide reliable transportation to work and for errands, and oh by the way, it should be able to make a credible showing in a NASCAR event if I ever wanted to do that."
Dealer: "Well sir, I can see you know a lot about cars (laughs to himself). Have you ever driven the Ferrari Enzo? Top notch and very race capable..ehem, should you ever want to do that. I know it is a tad more than the lowly Corvette ($225,000 more), but it has upgraded components."
I walked into Door County Cycle this weekend and collected a new pair of Keen sandals, a sweater on sale for 50% off, and a new Thule bike rack for our vehicle. I knew what I wanted, and no damn salesman was going to "educate" me about various bike racks.
Total elapsed time: 5 minutes 26 seconds (including checkout).
Percent Satisfaction: 100%
Second Thoughts: NONE
Guilt factor: ZERO
Spousal approval factor: 100%
How my wife shops:
On the first of three trips to the same bike shop, I told my wife to buy the bike she was looking at because we would just be back to get that one anyway. I knew she liked it. I knew she wanted THAT bike, but she wanted to shop around a bit and do some research. We bought that same bike on the third trip back...I must be fricken Nostradamus.
On the first trip to the bike shop my wife told the salesperson she was looking for a bike that would suit her needs of casual trail riding. After being shown several very capable bikes, Jodi asks if there might be something a little more money. "I am interested in something that could be raced, you know...if I ever wanted to". I saw the salesman wipe a little drool from his chin. "Raced?" I thought. "She has never raced bikes". "She does not even know anyone who races mountain bikes". "Hell, she would not even have time to practice let alone race". WTF is she thinking, is what I am thinking at this point. With a gleam in his eye, and sensing the fulfillment of next months mortgage, the salesperson steered us to the "upgraded component" bikes. These are your $1000+ skull crackers, not the mom and pop roadsters that sell for a measly $600. She got the sales pitch for the big money wheelers, and she was convinced. Once the coolness factor of the high quality, race enabled, tough SOB bike was thoroughly ingrained...there was no turning back. All future comparisons were to be with like models, and my fate was sealed. In her mind, she was burning down the hill neck and neck with another racer; her equipment was going to be the deciding factor. At this point. I recused myself from the process in the interest of marital harmony, and let my now Olympic bike racing wife live her unquestionably never-going-to-happen statement to fruition. We were back again later that month to purchase the bike after evaluating 8 similarly equipped bikes of various manufacture.
Total elapsed time: 56 days, 7 hours, 18 minutes (including checkout).
Percent Satisfaction: 98%
Second Thoughts: YES
Guilt factor: 10%
Spousal approval factor:60%
I did, however, point out the rationale that I would now be using on MY next big ticket purchase.
Me: "Excuse me sir, I am looking for a car. One that will provide reliable transportation to work and for errands, and oh by the way, it should be able to make a credible showing in a NASCAR event if I ever wanted to do that."
Dealer: "Well sir, I can see you know a lot about cars (laughs to himself). Have you ever driven the Ferrari Enzo? Top notch and very race capable..ehem, should you ever want to do that. I know it is a tad more than the lowly Corvette ($225,000 more), but it has upgraded components."
Mangosteen Shmangosteen
Over Easter weekend, my wife was engaged in a conversation with a cousin who, apparently, had just completed a sleep study. She commented to this person that I, too, had just done a sleep study; the results of which indicated that I have a severe case of "restless leg syndrome" and mild apnea. My legs could, evidently, be hooked into the local power grid at night to augment power generation...I flail that bad.
"Oh my", our cousin said. "Have I got the solution for him." "My friend's husband had the same problem until he started taking Xango". "It cured him, and it also prevents cold sores, treats irritable bowel syndrome, fights cancer and many other beneficial duties".
Being the good cousin that she is, Jodi immediately inquired the what, where, when and how of this Xango stuff. Furthermore, being pathologically unable to say no to anyone, she immediately procured some from her for the great price of $30 per bottle. The fact that it was so readily available did not raise any suspicion to Jodi whatsoever. I mean...dealers have been known to promote their products, dear.
Turns out (convenient) that the cousin is a distributor for this product. Xango is the juice made from the whole mangosteen fruit. Mangosteens are native to SE Asia, and have been used medicinally for centuries (albeit by the same persons who use powdered monkey testicles and tincture of lizard penis in their daily health regimen). I am to ingest 1-3 oz. of this product daily for complete relief of my helicopter legs.
Look up Xango on the internet, and you will be immediately reminded of the Amway system of sales. If you read through the entire web site like I did, you will come away with the feeling that there is something fishy about this whole thing. Methinks someone is making lots of money hawking juice that is not much different than any other whole food. I guess in this day and age, a food that at least does not contribute to cancer can be considered health conscious.
I started Saturday night with my first shot. Not bad tasting. From the hype on the Internet, I expected my balls to swell with vigor and my waist to melt away four inches right before my eyes. The only thing I think happened was a slight increase in my hearing sensitivity, as I no longer could listen to my wife talk about mangosteen juice. Go figure. I have 63 shots left to do. We'll keep you posted.
"Oh my", our cousin said. "Have I got the solution for him." "My friend's husband had the same problem until he started taking Xango". "It cured him, and it also prevents cold sores, treats irritable bowel syndrome, fights cancer and many other beneficial duties".
Being the good cousin that she is, Jodi immediately inquired the what, where, when and how of this Xango stuff. Furthermore, being pathologically unable to say no to anyone, she immediately procured some from her for the great price of $30 per bottle. The fact that it was so readily available did not raise any suspicion to Jodi whatsoever. I mean...dealers have been known to promote their products, dear.
Turns out (convenient) that the cousin is a distributor for this product. Xango is the juice made from the whole mangosteen fruit. Mangosteens are native to SE Asia, and have been used medicinally for centuries (albeit by the same persons who use powdered monkey testicles and tincture of lizard penis in their daily health regimen). I am to ingest 1-3 oz. of this product daily for complete relief of my helicopter legs.
Look up Xango on the internet, and you will be immediately reminded of the Amway system of sales. If you read through the entire web site like I did, you will come away with the feeling that there is something fishy about this whole thing. Methinks someone is making lots of money hawking juice that is not much different than any other whole food. I guess in this day and age, a food that at least does not contribute to cancer can be considered health conscious.
I started Saturday night with my first shot. Not bad tasting. From the hype on the Internet, I expected my balls to swell with vigor and my waist to melt away four inches right before my eyes. The only thing I think happened was a slight increase in my hearing sensitivity, as I no longer could listen to my wife talk about mangosteen juice. Go figure. I have 63 shots left to do. We'll keep you posted.
Why am I posting?
Just to get a post in today I suppose. There 'aint a hell of a lot going on.
Lately:
I got a new car.
I made a new pot rack.
I cheated and had a bit of snuff.
I bought some wine.
Easter sucked.
My wife is gone for the night.
My dog is psycho.
That about sums up the last week and two weekends. Maybe this week will be more interesting.
Lately:
I got a new car.
I made a new pot rack.
I cheated and had a bit of snuff.
I bought some wine.
Easter sucked.
My wife is gone for the night.
My dog is psycho.
That about sums up the last week and two weekends. Maybe this week will be more interesting.
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