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School Mistakes Huge Burrito for a Weapon - Yahoo! News

I'm sure the late-nite talk show jokes will abound so I'll post mine so you can say you read it here first. A burrito that big with jalapenos could only be one kind of weapon:

Wait for it...

A weapon of ass destruction!

Oh stop. You knew where I was going with that when you started reading.

At first, I thought it was just a fluke. Now, much like Jay and Silent Bob, I am sure the whole freakin' world is out to get me. Allow me to elaborate.

A few years back, at work, I left my soup bowl in the breakroom sink to soak overnight. Actually, I meant to come back and wash it but forgot about the whole deal. The next day, it is gone. Vanished. No longer where I left it. Probably stolen. Which I found kind of odd, because it was an open-stock close out from Pier One. The chances of it matching anyone's home dishes was practically nill. Shortly after that, I took a pretty decent chef's knife to work (it was a spare, but a very good spare) to keep it around for food night. While on vacation that same year, it vanished, much the same as the bowl. Fast forward to January of this year. Once again, I make the mistake of leaving my bowl to soak and forget all about it. The next day it is, of course, gone. I decide to check the trash bin right next to the sink where I left it and wouldn'tcha know? Someone threw away my bowl. I suspect, they threw away the other one too, but how does one prove such a thing? Video surveillance? Wiretaps in the freakin' break room? Exactly. But it doesn't end there, kind readers.

When we had February's food day, I made devilled eggs. I think it was February, but I'm not 100% sure. In any event, I put the leftovers in a gladware container plainly labeled as mine. The next day when I open the container, I find someone has left me a surprise: hair. Yes, people, I said hair. It looked as if someone had taken about 3 feet of duct tape, rolled it all over our nasty carpet, then sprinkled the findings in my gladware. The remaining leftovers from food night were, thankfully, unadulterated. Being (understandably) incredibly pissed off, I immediately fired off a nastygram to my boss demanding justice, but instead get the standard company answer. Anything left in the fridge is considered "at your own risk". Period. Needless to say, I no longer label anything or leave my bowls to soak. I don't know who it is who hates me so, nor do I really care why. I just wish they'd step up.

Tonight, I got final confirmation that I am indeed accursed. Thursday is trash day in da hood. Normally when I get home from work, I roll the empty bin back in to the garage. Tonight, however, the bin was not empty. In fact, tiny, muffled clanking noises could be heard emanating from within as I wheeled 'er up the drive. At first, I figured the bag got stuck and didn't dump. But then I thought to my self clanking noises? Glass clanks, but we recycle our glass. Upon opening the thing I see a solitary black bag with yellow pull handles. This is curious because we don't use black bags with yellow pull handles. Of course I had to check it out, so I open it and rustle around until I find a piece of mail. Turns out it is from the house at the far end of the street. Why the fudge are those peoples' trash in my bin? Needless to say, I marched it back down to their house and put it on their curb--right next to the other 4 bags still sitting there because the city doesn't pick up bags since they went to the roboto-trucks. I doubt the homeowners actually did it--unless they are stoopid enough to put trash in someone else's bin knowing full-well it has their freaking name in it! But why, of all the bins still out on our street when I got home, was it in ours? And why was it just the one bag? There were still 4 others just like it on the curb. Had to be kids. Unbelievably, inconceivably stoopid kids. I tell you, there ought to be laws against 'em.

FOXNews.com - Foxlife - Roberts 'Most Beautiful' Cover Girl for Record Third Time

Un-Freaking-Believable.

If our society at large thinks These two are indeed the most beautiful, then we are all doomed! DOOMED I SAY!

CNN.com - Farmer convicted of feeding employee to lions - Apr 28, 2005

And you thought your performance reviews were dismal.

Check out this article on KFOR's website. They aired this story the other night while I was eating lunch and I was stunned. Partly because this is what passes for news in the Big Town but mostly because the newscasters were reading the story in such a fashion that implied the club was to blame with straight faces. I guess in retrospect, that aspect isn't really that stunning, huh?

The 21-year-old and his mother are now warning others about his near-death experience. The son admits he is to blame and his mom says he is still feeling the affects of the alcohol, two days after his birthday celebration.

Note in the quote that the stoopid admits this is his fault. (We interrupt this story to report that ChronixRadio is, at this very minute, playing Corporeal Jigsore Quandry by Carcass! How's that for a walk down memory lane? One of my all-time faves to say the least.) Note that the stoopid admits it is his fault. The video that accompanied the newscast showed the guys friend from the neck down, because he wanted to remain anonymous, (I would too) wanking about how the club failed to call 911 while his buddy was convulsing and foaming at the mouth. Excuse me, but what the fudge was he doing? Obviously, these two were not Navy trained.

Lest you think I have forgotten those 'dark' years in my youth, I assure you I have done some almost unfathomable, incredibly stupid things under the influence of the hooch, but I never, ever left a man behind (no matter how much they needed to be) or blamed a club for not taking care of one of my crew. I recall physically carrying The Latchman back to the barracks on at least one occasion.

The next shot in the newscast was old boy's Moms talking about how the club should have been more "responsible".

The young man's mother says she thinks the club should be held accountable and she believes employees should have noticed her son was drinking too much.

Why should it be anyone's responsibility other than your own to make sure you are not drinking too much? That's right, it shouldn't be, and isn't. It is all you and your crew. I don't even care if this sounds crass, but if you don't know when to stop then maybe you deserve your Darwin.

Yahoo! News - Entertainment Photos - AP

When are these silly hollywood types going to realize that they just aren't as important as they think they are? I don't care if Pammy is traveling to each and every capitol city giving away money, I'm not changing my mind about anything just because Pam "I've parlayed giant fake breasts into a career" Anderson has put her freaky-deaky seal of approval on it. In fact, I think I'm going to have to find a way to eat some KFC chicken this week just to boycott her boycott!

Okay then: I’m happy to report that I completed all but one of the weekend projects and that can wait. Mowing the lawn was not really a priority, but it will be if I don’t take the time to do it sometime this week. Sadly, my success rate for getting out of bed early for the express purpose of mowing the lawn is, shall we say, not something worth bragging about. On to the things I did accomplish then:

1. Added a cable drop to the guest bedroom so we can watch TV while exercising on the treadmill. The only bad part, and you will want to remember this in case you ever try this yourself, was the cable curled up inside the wall cavity as I was feeding it down from the attic in such a fashion that it appeared I had drilled into the wrong wall. To clarify, I drilled a tiny hole in the ceiling of the bedroom and jammed a piece of wire up through that hole (so it would be visible in the attic) to mark the location of the wall to be drilled. I then went into the attic, no small feat in itself, and drilled down through the 2X6 and two 2X4s into the wall cavity. So far, so good. So I go back to the bedroom and very carefully cut a 1.5” hole in the wall only to find…NO CABLE! Thinking I must have hosed up the works, I cut a hole in the next cavity to my left. Nope, no cable. So I try to cut into the one to the right and hit a stud. Brilliant. Cut another hole a bit more to the right and there is still no freaking cable. By this point, I’m not a happy camper. I have just cut 4 holes in a wall we had painted only a few months earlier. So I started over, with help from Aimee this time, and did it the way I should’ve done it the first time. I tied a small fishing weight to enough string to go from the attic all the way to the floor of the bedroom below, then dropped the weight through the hole with Aimee observing in the bedroom. Sure enough, the stupid thing dropped into the first cavity I drilled! Lovely.

2. Mounted the hardware that will hold up the TV that we will be watching while exercising on the treadmill. This was simple enough, but the manufacturer’s literature, which was more like ancient pictographs, instructed me to use a drill bit 3 sizes too small to drill the pilot holes for the giant wood screws that secure this contraption to the wall. So, I get that worked out, and then Aimee realizes that the shelf is too close to the ceiling because I failed to account for the mounting hardware that holds the shelf to the support arm. Drat. So I move the whole thing down 2.5”, but then realize that the TV will be waaaay too close to our peepers. Off to the garage to cut 4” off the support arm and drill the bolt holes in said arm. After that, I had to move the DVD/VCR combo unit from the master bed to the guest bed and move the VCR from the living room to the master bed. On the upside, we can now watch something other than the time/calorie/distance display while hoofin’ it out on the treadmill.

3. I Shot the entire Gorilla softball team. Justin asked if I could come by the softball field where they practice to take some shots for our company newsletter, since at least half of the players are employees in our building. Shooting them doesn’t take so long, but reviewing 150 digital pictures and making any needed color corrections and removing the out of focus/out of frame shots takes a good deal of time. In fact, just copying them off the flash card to the computer for editing took a solid 20 minutes.

4. Determined that the problem we’ve been having with the kitchen light (the details of which I will spare you) are indeed the lighting and not our wiring. You see, we took a big lightning strike a few years back, and we were literally finding things it fried for months after the hit. We had figured that perhaps the ground leg on that circuit was hosed. Turns out, it’s the fixture, so that isn’t really good news, but it’s better than having an electrician come out at $30 an hour just to tell us it is indeed the fixture.

5. Aimee finished the keyboard table, and we got it moved into the guest bed. It looks sweet, if I do say so myself. She did a super job of finishing it, like she always does, and gets all of the credit for that one.

6. Finally cleaned the Beretta. I had forgotten about it for almost a month and that is really not something I like to do. On the plus side, I discovered something rather unexpected but very pleasant: the Winchester white-box ammo, which is only a few cents more expensive than the S&B I usually buy, is much, much cleaner burning. Ergo, the pistol is easier to clean and when it comes right down to it, the real savings are measure din time more than money in this case. Another bonus is that I don’t have to drive all the way to the now-blacklisted Outdoor America Store to get the Winchester ammo, so I’m saving gas and time.

Fear not, kind readers. I am still here. I have to apologize the lame 'filler' that is the yahoo! news post, but that's all I've been able to find time for lately. Projects, projects and more projects.

Got a lot of things finished this weekend, but there are still more to go.

I'll try to tug out a weekend restrospective tomorrow night, but I can't promise anything. Wire In The Blood is in its new season and each episode is a delightfully dark, two-hour ride through the mind of the criminally insane.

Tasty.

The other day Chris asked if I had turned traitor on Bereta by putting up the S&W logo in the linkspace. I affirmed that my trusty 92FS will always be number one, but there is always room in the safe for another.

Since obtaining this guy, I figured I should give S&W thier props. It reeks of quality.

Yahoo! News - Experts Solve Mystery of Unpopped Popcorn

Thank God that one's solved. I'll sleep better tonight for sure.

Yahoo! News - World Photos - AP

Robots? I think they should train monkeys! Monkeys racing camels? That is guaranteed fun for the whole family.

Yahoo! News - Arch-Conservative German Elected Pope

Not knowing much about the Catholic church, I have to wonder: since the new Pope is going to be called Pope Benedict XVI, does that mean he is from the Order of St. Benedict, as predicted here in number nine?

Curious indeed!

Thanks go to Dusty for the origial link.

Yahoo! News - Ted Nugent to Fellow NRAers: Get Hardcore

Go Ted!

WESH.com - Family - Thousands Attend Cat Hunt Meetings

I'm not quite sure what to make of this one. I am certainly not a sport hunter, but I can't see eating a cat either. I suppose with the correct preparation they just might be delicious, but that is a question I'm in no big hurry to answer.

You see, to me sport hunting is one of the most vile, arrogant exercises one can undertake. Now if you want to go after one of the "big five" with a spear then I'll respect you in the morning, but come on people, standing 30 feet from a bull elephant and firing a half-inch caliber bullet through its skull is not what I would call sport. Accurate Reloading used to have a video of just that, and it was one of the most disturbing things I've ever seen on the internet, and that includes the fungeon. I was so repulsed by the sight of that animal falling dead, I could not watch it twice. The African elephant is a magnificent animal and to just walk up and end it is disgusting, revolting and, I think, a crime against nature. As far as I'm concerned, hunting is for food. You want to 'stalk' something (which these guys usually do with the assistance of a hired guide and a huge rifle) take a camera. You can say you 'shot' an elephant and you haven't destroyed, for no other reason than your own ego/vanity, one of the most majestic animals on this planet.

Whew. Didn't mean to go off on sport hunters, but where else am I going to work that rant in? Consider it a freebie--I don't go off on gun-toters too often. Anyway, I have no idea how bad this feral cat problem really is, but if they are indeed to the point of impacting other animal populations, than that is our mess and we need to clean it up. Certainly spaying or neutering them would be crazy expensive and take years, so I can't really see that being an option since they are wild. Do we "fix" other wild animals when their numbers get out of hand? If that is the course they choose, the cats' numbers would eventually drop, but even if the life expectancy of your average feral cat is only 5 years, then that is still 5 years that those little hairballs are going to be impacting the bird/small mammal populations and isn't that what they're trying to control? On the other hand, do we really need a bunch of nutters running around with .22s and taking cat pelts to the department of wildlife to cash in on some kind of bounty? Even if there isn't a bounty, and there probably wouldn't be, I don't think shooting on-sight should be considered lightly. If the problem truly is that out of control then perhaps the wildlife management people, i.e. game rangers, need to work at it for a year and then reevaluate the situation in before turning John Q. Public loose on it.

No, I'm not being all soft on the cute kitties because I like them. In fact, I despise cats and find them absolutely useless. By the way, please don't try to tell me your cat is different. None of them are. I will not looooove your cat. I feel I must say this because every single cat owner I have ever known feels they must tell me how I would just love their cat because it is different. I assure you, your cat is no more unique than my dog, so don't bother. Obviously there is a problem if they're even having to consider such measures, but the only thing I'm sure of is that spaying/neutering 2 million cats is a stupid idea.

VPC - Press Release - (06/02/2004) - Violence Policy Center Warns Nation's Law Enforcement Officers of New Handgun Threat to Police Body Armor

Yeah, I know the article is old, but I was just checking their press releases to see if there is anything I should be calling my rep's about. Man, these people are delusional. If they were any further off the mark, they'd be off the map. I guess it's all about perception: I see the ultimate hunting handgun. They see a "vest busting 50-caliber handgun" which brings a "new level of handgun threat to the nations's streets".

Given the logic they demonstrate in this article, it is curious that they don't see busses as devastatingly deadly, given that they have the capacity to kill so many in a single accident. Why were they not all freaked out about the 454 Casull? Wait...who am I kidding? Of course they were. Check this out:

"This vest-busting 50-caliber handgun draws a bead on every law enforcement officer in America," said Tom Diaz, VPC senior policy analyst and study author. "It is unfortunately only the latest example of dangerously reckless marketing by America's virtually unregulated gun industry." Diaz further noted that the .500 Magnum handgun, first introduced in February 2003, is already appearing at gun shows, notorious as sources of criminal gun trafficking. In addition, he pointed out, at least one shoulder holster is being sold for the Magnum revolver, thus making it easy for criminals to carry the gun concealed."

Now I've been to my share of gunshows, and I have yet to see the "criminal gun trafficking" booth or table.

Why don't these people just come out and call hunters criminals? Everything they've said about the this pistol implies that only ne'er-do-wells would ever want such a thing and hunters just don't hunt with handguns.

Another thing these brainless wonders have failed to mention is the very prohibitive pricing on this bad boy. The cheapest I've seen it yet is about 800 smacks. But I guess that's a non issue, because ever gun ever used in a crime was stolen, right?

By the way, have you seen one of these yet? This is absolutely the most massive revolver I have ever seen. Even the lightest one is over three and a half pounds--empty! For comparison, my full-size Beretta 92 is 2.2 pounds, and my S&W 642 is 17 ounces fully loaded. I assure you, there is nothing easily concealable about this revolver and for these dolts to imply otherwise is just plain lying and overt fear-mongering.

Wait a minute, I think I have a solution that will finally make these idiots happy: let's ban everything! That way no one could ever be hurt again. And isn't that the supposed mission of these people--to save lives? Why didn't I see it sooner? We can ban everything, then put a socialist government in place to take care of all of our day to day needs so we won't even have to leave our homes--which will all be upgraded with ergonomic keyboards, HEPA filters and full spectrum lighting. Then we'll remove all the knives, food processors, scissors, toxic cleaning chemicals and anything else that might possibly hurt, injure or even kill someone. After that we'll all be issued the exact same, off-white clothing by our new government so that no one will ever feel self conscious about not having the same high-dollar, name-brand clothes the richies have. Personal wealth will be a thing of the past too, because we wouldn't want anyone to have to feel the shame of watching their neighbor waxing the Mercedes in the driveway, while they're stuck washing a Lumina. The final step will be to broadcast only happy music and television programming so everyone will be happy and safe all day, every day.

Yep, that's the world where I want to live, safe and sound, equality everywhere. Since they always say to "think globally, act locally", I'm shipping all my guns to Dianne Feinstein this week so she can have them melted down, along with all the others that will no longer be needed, and cast into a giant statue of a young child holding out a flower as if to say "thank you, Wayne, for making the world safer, one gun at a time". Maybe if we're very lucky, she'll present the statue to Kofi Annan and he'll dedicate it when the UN takes over all United States governmental duties! That would be the greatest.

Yahoo! News - Politics Photos - AFP

I probably drove past this sign a dozen times while stationed out there, and the first time I was laughing so hard, I almost wrecked the car. I love the way the daughter is all flailing in the wake of mom and dad's turbo strides.

Those of you paying very close attention will remember that today is our wedding anniversary. And I'm playing hookey so I can take my numbah one lady out for a night on the town. Hoooooo-wee! We are gonna tear. it. up.

Well, not so much "playing hookey" as I had the opportunity to attend a class today, which I promptly siezed, just so I would be off this evening. The class was pretty good, but being able to take Aimee out for dinner tonight is infinitely better. The only downside to this whole deal was trying to get to sleep last night at 12:45a.m after taking a migrane capsule just for the built-in tranquilizer. It didn't work out quite like I had hoped (next time it's gonna be NyQuil!) but I still think I managed about 5 hours of sleep.

Do you know how many places are open when I get off work? Yes, I think you do: Taco Bell, Denny's, Prarie Kitchen (pka The Kettle), IHOP and Awful House. None of which are commensurate with an occasion such as this. Really now, what kind of husband would I be if I had worked this evening then tried to take Aimee to Awful House for the anniversary dinner? That's right, the kind that deserves a kick in the junk and would therefore not be surprised when it occured.

We are up to nine years now, and it has gone by so fast I sometimes have to stop and think about that. It is more time that I've spent on any one thing in my life, and it has been by far the most rewarding, enjoyable, challenging, and enlightening nine years so far. And for that, I'm eternally grateful to my amazing wife, Aimee.

We went out to Asher today to visit with Aimee's folks, her aunt and many cousins. The occasion was the April birthdays. Her family has a lot of them.

When we arrived, they were already working on getting the fire going to cook burgers and dogs, and the sides and fixin's were already set up. (Perfect timing, if I say so myself). The younger cousins were occupying themselves gathering firewood and I thought we might even be able to squeeze in some shooting. Sadly, by the time we had finished dinner the sun had set past the point of safe shooting, so we gathered around a leaking horse trough and the fire was started.

It was a big fire. I don't know how many gallons the trough was supposed to hold, but it was about six feet long by two feed wide, and fully stoked with the all the wood the kids had gathered during the day. The heat was so intense we were all forced to keep our distance--about fifteen feet--and for most of the evening the sides glowed red.

Once it had burned down to the point where we could roast a marshmallow without simultaneously roasting ourselves, the spits came out. Very shortly after that, all the requisite ingredients were secured and the s'mores production started. I helped some of the younger cousins get the process figured out--although I think they were mostly interested in playing with the fire--then made a lactose-friendly one for Aimee, sans MILK chocolate. Once that was handled, I set about making the traditional campfire confection for myself. I had honestly forgotten how those three simple ingredients when combined work together to far exceed the sum of their parts. When I finished making the second one, at the exact moment I was thinking "The only thing that would make this better would be a hot cup of coffee" Aimee's cousin Sharon emerged from the house and handed me a fresh, hot cup of coffee just the way I like it--light and sweet. For that few short minutes, I am quite sure that life was as absolutey perfect as it can be in any one situation. I had hot coffee, a warm ooey-gooey s'more, a toasty fire and of course, my most favorite person in the world right there with me.

Good times, people. Very good times.