A Day in Traffic

I'm not one for new laws. I usually hate the idea of a legal avenue to persuade common sense; but I'd really like to see a law that requires people to reduce their speed to 20 mph below the speed limit in a construction site with a lane closure. I'm tired of the apprehension I feel, when an 18 wheeler travels through the job at the legal speed limit of 75 mph.

Not Much To Write Today

I'm feeling a little malaise this evening. I'm thinking it's due to what I call sneaky heat. The temperature is right, the humidity is low, and you sweat your ass off and get a little dehydrated because the sweat dries before it soaks your underwear. The cure is rest and sweet tea.

Anyway, back to not much to write: I was thinking about how I'm reaching that "I really don't give a shit; at least half the time." age and ruminating on the "I really don't give a shit anytime" age, which is approaching.

I plan on having fun with the approaching time in my life. I'm guessing I'll get away with most of it, but sooner or later, I'm thinking a little scotch, and the police may be involved. I'll blame it on trying to recapture my lost youth....probably will get away with it....and keep on planning on how far I can push the envelope without losing a wing.

Only a few coins...

...and it was worth every penny.

Put The Lime In The Coconut - Harry Nilsson

The reason for the video is Dana. She wrote about how her subconscious mind will focus on a song, and her conscious mind will kick in to gear, and she'll find herself singing the entire song to the finish. After reading that, I realized I don't suffer the same disorder   react the same, but some songs will stick in my head until I seek substances to make them go away.

If you're easily upset by Danish lesbian porno trailers, you might not want to follow the link. If you aren't, and really like such things, you might be disappointed.

P=MV

As pointed out in a comment, the formula is for momentum. That's correct and I should have pointed out the energy is stored until there is a collision. 

That's the formula for the energy of mass when subjected to a particular velocity. It's the simple formula, since there are so many other things involved that require more advanced mathematics, different masses, different velocities, and vectors that describe the forces applied from different directions.

So, why did I post this? In the real world, where automobiles travel at speeds of over one hundred feet each second, the amount of energy released during a collision with me manifests into severed body parts, lots of blood, and sadness for those left behind.

I work behind traffic barrels that are made of plastic, can be moved by the wind, and offer no protection. When someone texts, loses concentration, or is outright psychopathic, the only protection offered is as insubstantial as a spider web.

I think about such things daily. I see people texting, tapping barrels and know every second is only one second from disaster. That's why I don't care your 15 minute drive took 25 minutes. When the cars are slowly driving past, I know I won't leave the job in a body bag.

Not Giving a Rodent's Fanny

I'm to the point I don't care for the idea of tolerance, forgiveness, and the "feel good" crap peddled every day. It only lead to a crappy economy, more bureaucrats, and too many people that observe the world through what's presented on social media and the television.

It's getting to the point it's all about survival; and survival is a bitch to deal with.

The Necessity of Vigilance

The beheading of the woman in Oklahoma is the reason you should be vigilant. While the media is playing the games they play, those realistic know otherwise.

The religion that we're supposed to tolerate is not a religion. It's a call to brutal psychopaths to murder without the restraints a healthy society places to insure peace. With that in mind, regardless of your opinion, anyone that practices that religion may be the one that uses it for retribution.

Nobody else can protect you as well as you can protect yourself. Remember that and be vigilant. Avoid those that practice the religion; even if it means finding a new merchant. The government won't protect you and the progressive line of thinking is as insane as the religion of destruction. Jihad has arrived in the United States. Only the citizens can prevent further actions of war.

"Oh. That's excessive. You're being dramatic."

"Maybe so, but tell that to the woman that had her head cut off by a madman with a knife. He gave them plenty of warning he was a psychopath; and believed in the religion of hate."

It's All in the Timing

If the timing is what I expect, the slow wheels of justice will eventually drag Eric Holder to some type of conviction, which will be right before Obama steps down. Then, before he has to spend some time in jail, Obama can pardon him for his sorry ass criminal activities transgressions

Cyclone

We’d spent a few hours assembling some scaffolding. I was working the frames and x- braces with a rope. Cy would tie them, I’d raise them, wrap my legs to keep from falling, and slide the frames on to the frames already set. After I’d raise the braces, I’d fasten them, Cy would pass up the decking, and we worked our way to the top.

We’d poured the bridge columns a few days before. The can forms were removed and we needed to rub, and grout, the fresh concrete. The scaffolding was needed for access to the columns. They were around 30 feet to the top; and our task was to give the columns an aesthetic finish.

It was hard work. For me, it was business as usual. I was young, full of energy, and it was just another day on the job. Cy was pushing sixty and age was slowing him down. I did what I could to ease his task. I was raised to respect my elders and I respected Cy for many more reasons.

As we worked, we talked about many things. We’d chip the concrete with chipping hammers, fill any imperfections with grout, and rub the surface with grinding stones to give the surface an even finish. I’d climb down to replenish our water and grout buckets.

As the day progressed, and the conversations unfolded, I realize Cy’s name wasn’t anywhere close to his real name of Lafayette Brown.

Before I go any farther, I need to describe Cy. He was a black man; slender in build, tall, graying hair; long arms with sinewy muscles and he chewed tobacco. I think he chewed Brown Mule, which was a plug. He’d bite off a chew and work on it for a few hours. He didn’t spit much, which meant he either swallowed some of the juice, or waited a long time before spitting. I think it was the latter, because his voice would rattle after long conversations. 

Cy taught me as we worked. I’d helped rub and grout concrete, but actually performing the task was fairly new to me. He showed me how to use the chipping hammer to open the small perfections, the right consistency for the grout, and how to apply the grout to the surface, so the grinding rock would create an even finish. After the grout set for the proper time, he showed me how to use long, even strokes with the finishing brush to achieve the right texture for the finish.

We worked for much of the morning, before I asked about his name. He smiled as he explained his nickname, and I admired him more when he finished his story.

Cy needed a job. He was young, had a family, and he needed to provide the necessities for survival. He bugged a construction company to the point the owner finally created a task so cumbersome, he knew Cy would fail and go away.

The task was to unload a rail car full of bags of cement. The cement was stacked on pallets, and there were many pallets in the box car on the siding.

Cy, who was more than determined, started his task one early morning. The owner of the company, smug with his decision, described what was needed and returned to his office. Cy went to work.

Somewhere, between lunch, and quitting time, Cy returned to the office and asked the owner if they had anything else for him to do. The owner, thinking he was being played, went back to the rail car to find it unloaded. Cy stood quietly; and the owner exclaimed: “You unloaded that like a cyclone”.

So, Cy was hired permanently, and it was decades that passed, when I had the honor of helping him on the job. The nickname stuck, and the respect he earned was not without merit. He earned his place; and only a shallow fool wouldn’t realize his importance.

There are millions like Cy in the world. We pass them on the street and some, like me, are honored to be able to work with them long enough to learn the things that only those that work with their hands understand. They pass on; and few understand their importance in the grand scheme of things. Most are anonymous forever. I can’t let that happen with Lafayette Brown. He was a man, among men, and I was blessed with the opportunity to know him.

Finish This

If we took all the bureaucrats in Washington D.C., placed them on a large boat, sailed it to the middle of the Atlantic, and sank the boat, what would we have?

Obamacare and the Nazi Solution

The man called the "architect of Obamacare", thinks 75 is long enough to live.  That reminds me of the Nazi's solution for those they considered only useful to a certain point. If this doesn't concern you, you should do a little research. The Federal Government is corrupted by the evil of Socialism, which can be best described as allowing all your personal liberties to be dictated by the whims of the government. Russia tried Socialism; China still does (and I don't give a shit about the nuances of the different types of Socialism). Of the hundreds of millions that died under the brutality of the governments, I doubt even one thought it was a good idea.

If You Find It....

...don't send it back. It's probably ruined....What? My patience.

I lost my patience somewhere today. I'm thinking it fell out, rolled into traffic, and was smashed under the nasty wheels of a garbage truck flying through at a suicide altitude.

The remainder of the day was without patience. My comments were not good to those that must have been paid to breathe. That, or to hold their mouth open and catch flies. I can train just about anyone; even like it sometimes, but there has to be more than a vacuum between their ears. It's that, or they lied about their construction experience; unless their experience was watching Wiley Coyote assemble a roadrunner trap on Saturday morning cartoons.

There Ain't No Change in the Weather...

Apathy, Entitlement and Crappy People

I woke this morning, thought about things, and realized way too many people don't care, expect their existence to be guaranteed just because they want it to be that way, and can only be described as shit. Those just the opposite are forever having their fortunes pillaged, chastised for their perceived foolishness, or taking advantage of the programs that supposedly help the "downtrodden". It's a social disease. A blight on the health of a nation.

Meanwhile, the social media is full of millions of mindless posts, or tweets. The substance of what once was a healthy society is now a continuous series of photos of food, selfies and re-posts of famous quotes; written on a backdrop of computer generated graphics, or photographs taken by some stranger.

We've become a huge photo of Alfred E. Neuman; a gap in our front teeth, a silly smile on our face and our only inspiring words? "What, me worry?"

Allman Brothers Classic

This is a good version. If you know the band, you'll admire the composition.

Marionette

I listen to Rush Limbaugh, every now and then. He's shrewd; and makes good points. One point he's made since before Obama took office was that Obama is purposeful with his efforts; and the efforts are for a fundamental change of the United States.

This is a point I somewhat agree with, but I personally don't feel Obama is shrewd, or as educated as his sycophants suggest. If he was the scholar they proclaim, his education records would reveal this fact, yet there are no public records available.

Obama is a marionette. Like many news anchors, the people that pull his strings only give him a script; and he follows it accordingly. His reward is isolation from the people he serves; except for when such isolation causes negative reactions. Then, a special script is written, and he reads his teleprompter as commanded.  

Who pulls the strings? You don't have to look far. His wife is one; so is Valerie Jarrett. There are others, but those two, in my opinion, make the final decisions in everything the President does. They know the power they wield, do so together, and ruthlessly manipulate to achieve their goals.

So what are their goals? Power. They're drunk with it and it shows mostly in the failed nutritional guidelines now mandated for any school district that wants some of the free money for school lunch programs. It's something they now passes recreational use; they're now addicted; and the harm is becoming evident.

Harm? Yes, harm. Obama is now considered a failed President. Between the broken promises, feckless decisions, destruction of the economy and gutting of the military, there is no saving this administration. Even members of his own party are scrambling for distance from the stain of failure. The crucial mid-term election is soon to arrive. Being associated with this administration can end the political careers of those that face a tough challenger.

Meanwhile, the addiction for power grows stronger. With this addiction will come the mistakes such addictions cause. Many are already evident; such as Benghazi, the porous border, the avoidance of prosecuting favorites and the debacle of allowing ISSIS to be formed, due to political posturing.

I keep hoping the media will become responsible. They have much to gain by exposing their puppet, yet they're avoiding the tough questions. Even with the loss of revenue, they're still avoiding pointing out the suit that stands at the podium is empty. Maybe I have too much faith in what was once an honorable profession. After all, if you ask them, they're much smarter than most of us and we should be thankful they're pointing us in the right direction. Unfortunately, they're pointing to the rear; and most people have already seen that. Looking back, they see how much they've lost during the tenure of the marionette.

Do You Think They Read My Blog?

I don't know what to say, except to let the games begin.  It will be like cancer, and I hope it hurts

.I wrote about this not too long ago. 

Friday Night Heart

I've always had a fondness for Nancy Wilson....okay; I'll  admit it , I've always thought she was hot. She's still hot.

Enjoy.

Statistics and the Media

According to the latest Gallup Poll, 60% of Americans distrust the Media. I'd say of that 60%, 90% are really not prepared to answer a survey, and automatically answer the loaded questions. So, that leaves a small percentage of those surveyed that actually understand how polls can be misleading, media reporting of the results can be misleading, and Mark Twain was right:

"...There are three kinds of lies: lies, damned lies, and statistics..."

The Weakest Part of the Constitution

I'm thinking too many attorneys were involved with the drafting of the Constitution. Why? There is no direct public influence on most of the Federal Judiciary. Supreme Court justices are allowed to stay as long as they want, and the final decision on who shall replace those that leave is a step away from the private citizens most influenced by their actions.

Federal judges are appointed. Otherwise, the political whims of an administration are reflected in those they appoint to the bench and appointments can be halted by the political posturing of members of Congress.

I don't like this. The courts are for the people; not for politics; and I don't accept the "that's just the way it is" premise. Judges are not special in any way. Their job is to be the referee for matters of criminal, and civil law. When allowed to inject political opinion, and ignore constitutional restraints, the court becomes a political forum, instead of a place where any person can expect to be treated equally, is not forced into financial plights due to delays, and the true meaning of justice is never subverted.

Until all members of the Federal Judiciary are treated as any other public official, there is no real justice; there is only the promise; and the promise is never fulfilled. Like any other power, the corruption is only limited by the ability of citizens to change the members. Expecting those most rewarded by the corruption to police their actions is foolish. They have everything to gain; and nothing to lose; if they can operate without the consent of those influenced by their decisions.

Here She Comes; And Then More

Miss Planned Parenthood Miss America interned with Planned Parenthood. That's not going to endear her to many, many people. Why? Because Planned Parenthood is a political outlet, receives taxpayer funds, and is involved with a huge number of abortions each year.

Like it; or not. Miss America is supposed to be a role model and represent the most admired qualities of young women. Since Planned Parenthood doesn't see any problem with aborting viable fetuses, Miss America's involvement with the group will give many the perception she advocates sex without responsibility, misuse of taxpayer funds and has no qualms about the sometimes brutal methods used to destroy living fetuses.

I have a feeling this won't turn out well; and it shouldn't. There are many ways to help women in planning their family. Planned Parenthood is a poor choice for internship, if you want to represent all facets of U.S. society.

Malaise

You know the feeling. The sinuses are out of sorts. Not a headache, but the precursor. Feeling tired; even though you had enough rest.

I don't know what it is; maybe sinus; but I'll take an antihistimine and retire early.

The Bot Swarm is Over

For that last week, the bots were swarming. At least half the visits were the little bastards; maybe more.

So far this week, they seemed to have wandered off to another section of the internet. If I could ever figure out to catch them, I'd never need to work again....except to build pens.

The Real Inconvenient Truth

The Sun can best be described as a gigantic ball of hydrogen. Due to gravity, which is the attractant of anything with mass, and eons of time, enough gathered to become so dense, the hydrogen atoms are squeezed until they fuse. The result is a release of energy and the creation of a helium atom. This energy takes a long time to reach the surface, (theorized to be a million years) since the photons released strike other atoms, are absorbed and re-emitted. All this happens way down in the core, which we can't observe.

The pressure of the fusion reaction on the rest of the Sun is like the air in a balloon. More fusion, more energy and the sun expands a little. Less energy, it contracts, which increases the pressure and increases the fusion. It's a process that lasts until most of the hydrogen is converted to helium, which changes the dynamics of the fusion. The result is more energy, the expansion of the outer layers of the sun and all the interior planets become part of the sun. That's a long, long time in the future, so we don't need to worry about that.

Since our ability to study the Sun in detail has only been for a handful of generations, we don't have enough data to predict the long term cycles of the sun. That's the inconvenient truth ignored by climate alarmists. Since the Sun is something we can't control, there are no regulations or taxes to be obtained from changes of the Sun.

Considering the corruption of data interpretation, the use of computer models and the political agenda of many scientists, there are too many that want to crunch the data to fit their wants. That's bad science and leads to things that cost money, cause fear and lead to a mistrust of those that are supposed to be beyond the petty differences that plague the human race. That's not good and that directly violates the procession of knowledge without prejudice.

Meanwhile, last winter was brutal and this winter is not forecast to be mild either. With all the increased regulations, reluctance to expand the energy capabilities of the United States, and generally poor economy, many may find the expense of staying warm this winter a daunting effort. That's another inconvenient truth; and those elected this fall may find the inconvenience of the truth will lead to a determination by those that pay taxes to punish those that caused this to happen. From my vantage point, that will be Congress and the agencies that cause so much economic harm with regulations. Personally, I hope the final outcome is thousands of bureaucrats finding a pink slip and trying to survive in an economy they helped ruin. I won't have any compassion and probably won't do anything but enjoy their misery.

Searching for the Best Sausage for Beans

It's a little frustrating. I've tried different sausages for navy beans. I know ham is the best, but I have this die-hard compulsion to find the sausage that compliments the beans to perfection.

Some are good, but too hot. Others, are too full of spice that corrupts the beans. If it's too smoked, it overwhelms; the same can be said for garlic. Cayenne will hide the flavor.

I'll continue my quest.

Jesu Joy of Man's Desiring

I find this settling. It makes the first day with temperatures tolerable even more enjoyable.

It's a Good Morning for a Leprechaun Promenade

Don't look at me as though I've lost my mind. That's the name of the song

Little River Band From Way Back When

This is the first song I ever heard by the Little River Band. I consider it their best.

This Won't Take Long: Did It?

Well, so much for the worry and hand wringing. After a trip to the doctor, the plan is to come back in a few months for a 45 minute surgery to get what little is left. Apparently, the cancer is not deep, grows very slowly and wasn't very big in the first place. Considering the cutting he did during the biopsy only took one stitch, it had to be small; although the nurse's concern when he took it makes more sense at this time. She'd seen more than one procedure; and he must have been whacking away more than usual, when he performed the biopsy.

So, it's back to my life of women, song decadence......wait! That's not my life right now, so it's a new goal. Hopefully I stay out of trouble, but if not, I plan to have some fun.

Thanks to everyone's kind thoughts. I like to think they were instrumental for the good result.

Sometimes, I Feel Like a Wizard

My gut feeling was right about the truck I described in a former post. I had the time today to poke around and found the connection of the ground strap to the frame was loose enough to turn by hand. Since it was fubared with rust, and the bolt couldn't be removed, I bought a new ground strap and fastened in another hole in the frame; after I cleaned the paint to bare metal to insure a good ground. I, also, used a stainless bolt, so some poor bastard like me won't have to do the same thing again in the future.

The truck started without any problems, I had to tighten the filter a little to stop the leak, and the truck is ready to go.

The only problem I now have is to instill the eagerness to search to those that were helping me with the truck. Whoever connected the ground strap to the battery should have seen how loose it was and brought it to my attention. Oh well, I live and I hope they are willing to learn.

It Was a Beautiful Morning (Annual Reminder)

There's young folks coming up in the world that will never know the feeling of watching the enemy butcher innocent people and many in the world celebrating the deaths. I won't forgive them. For those that enjoyed the attack, may your death be long and painful. 

****


It was an early Fall. The temperature was in the mid 50's and the skies were crystal clear. I had just finished breakfast and we were driving to the job site in the twilight of dawn. The motel was close to our project site, so the trip was short.

Traffic was light as we placed the advance warning signs and started closing down the inside lane of U.S. 59 in Cleveland, Texas. We had five sections of concrete to pull. We sawed the concrete the day before, drilled lifting holes and now needed to pull the sections of failed pavement and start preparing for the new concrete. The pour was set for 10:00 am.

It didn't take long for the lifting machine to pull the first section of paving. As soon as the broken slab was moved to the shoulder, the crew started drilling holes for the anchors. When the anchors were placed, the crew placed a mat of rebar and moved to the next patch.

The procedure was moving as planned, so all five patches were well on the way to being prepared by 8:00 am. We would be ready for the concrete. I checked the work and started documenting the sizes on a daily report.

Around 30 minutes later, my boss called my cell phone. I assumed he was checking our progress, but he wanted to tell me that a plane had hit one of the World Trade Towers. He didn't have any details. I wondered what failure had led a pilot to fly their small plane into the tower. Bad weather? An error in judgement? I thought about it for a few minutes and then went back to work.

It didn't seem very long after that when my boss called me again, which I thought would be a progress check. It wasn't. He explained that it was a passenger jet that hit the first tower and another had flown into the second tower. He described the preliminary news feeds he was watching on television. I could only stare while my mind raced.

We continued working. My boss kept me informed. It was now clear it was a planned terror attack. He was in contact with the area engineer office for the Texas Department of Transportation. We were working for them and their decisions would decide whether we would pour concrete, which required hours of time to set, or place a temporary material to be removed in the future. The decision was to proceed as we always did, so we prepared for the concrete pour.

Before the concrete arrived, my wife called. She was terrified and wanted me to come home. I told her I couldn't leave until the concrete was poured and we were off the highway. Even then, I couldn't leave if we were to continue with our project. I told her I would come home immediately if the project was shut down, and to go to her mother's if she became too worried.

More information was now available, so I knew there was an immediate call for all air traffic to land. I noticed the absence of air traffic immediately. We were close enough to Bush International in Houston to see the constant flow of air transports, which dwindled and eventually ended.

We poured the concrete and started the process of preparing for the next day. I went to the motel to catch what I could on television. The loops of the impacts, the falling towers and the smoking section of the Pentagon was almost unbelievable. My mind was having a hard time wrapping around the fact we had been attacked and the result was the death of thousands of innocent people.

We finished the day as usual. We were prepared for the next day when we started opening the lane in the early afternoon. I had spent long minutes as we were finishing staring at the empty skies, It was bizarre to not see the heavy air traffic. Contrails from military jets stretched across the skies. I wondered if they were ours, or the jets of an enemy that was in the process of invading.

I had kept in contact with my wife during the day. After I reached the motel, we had a long conversation. She was calmer. I knew she still wanted me to come home, but she understood that it probably wouldn't happen until the week was over. Since I was only about two hours from home, I reassured it wouldn't take long to reach home if anything changed.

Watching television was like watching a fictional disaster movie. I was still having a hard time wrapping my head around the events of the day, but it was becoming clearer that it was a middle eastern terror group. My anger was rising and all I could think of  was how cowardly it was to attack innocents. I wanted our military to bomb half the Middle East to Hell. Kill them all and let God sort them out.

I'll never forget that day. Time stopped and it became apparent that the cruelty in the world is always only moments away. Barbarians had tested our defenses and managed to find a weak spot for their advantage. It wasn't a pleasant thought then and still isn't. I feel no compassion for such people and can only offer their death be swift, although many days I'd prefer they would suffer the agony of those trapped on the upper floors of the World Trade Center Towers.  Even after ten years, I'm still angry. I'm not ready to forgive, or forget.

Basal Cell Carcinoma

I haz it. I looked it up, and it's not a really, really terrible cancer. So, I really don't know what to think; or write.

Electrical Wizadry

Electricity is pretty simple stuff, at the basic level. It's like a bottle of electrons ready for a "hole" to flow through. The pressure, flow and potential really don't matter at the basic level; it's just theoretical stuff and not really important for what I'm trying to describe.

When the "hole" is planned, and the outlet is a certain size, the work for the electricity to accomplish is under control. If it's a light bulb, the electricity flows through the bulb, the electrons either heat a filament, or excite a field, and any extra flows to the ground. The same holds true for automobiles; any work to be performed is under control, but there is one stipulation that can lead to all types of strange things: the ground.

When the ground isn't good, or none exists, things stop working, or worse: things do things unintended. The electricity doesn't travel the intended path; it can even travel "backwards"; finding a path that may make a left turn signal flash dimly on the right. If it's the electricity to run the starter motor, it may be enough to make relays work, but not enough current is allowed to turn the motor, or just enough to make the bendix chatter. I think a ground problem may have materialized on a truck at work.

Everything was fine, but the fuel filter started leaking onto the manifold. We stopped the truck, made the repair, and that's when things became strange. The ignition would work; then not. The voltage was correct; then not. lights acted strangely, or shut off. The batteries are new and at 13 volts, so I don't think that's the problem

I scratched my head, until I had enough, dragged the truck off the road with a backhoe, and started thinking about the problem. Past experience slapped me around for a few minutes, and I had a eureka moment: "It must be a ground problem." So, I had every intention of starting with the main ground from the battery to the chassis. It's an old truck; and it wouldn't hurt to remove the ground strap, check the connection and reattach it to the frame....but it started raining.

So, tomorrow I'll find the time to see if I'm correct. If not, I'll either look for other problems, or burn it on the side of the road.....not really....although it crossed my mind as a solution that would make me feel better.

Observation on People

I'm guilty of it; and most people are; but sometimes I'm amazed at how little some people pay attention; especially when a question is answered in writing and you're asked the same question again.

What Do You Think It Will Take....

...for the cheerleaders in the media to finally put up their pom-poms and pull their heads from their asses? It's embarrassing to watch the reporters, pundits and supposed experts wander completely away from logical thinking and cover for an administration that should be ending with over half of the cabinet in jail.

If our society was smarter, a few large media outlets would have "for sale" signs on the front door, their staffs would be praying they'd find another job, and some would be trying to get out of the country before anyone found where they lived.

End of Summer

Today was one of those days, when the thunderstorms build, stay almost stationary and eventually rain out over the spot where they started. The air afterward is so heavy, the smallest of efforts lead to sweating so much, soaked clothes are the result; even my socks were wet.

The heavy sweating kicked my butt. Any energy I started with is gone and simple things are large efforts this evening. To place it in perspective: that much sweating is like running for miles in nice weather. It drains and leaves you exhausted.

This evening, with the sun starting to set, the huge anvil clouds are a wonder to behold. That's a sign of the start of the end of summer. Within weeks, we'll have a cold front; be rewarded with a morning with the temperature in the sixties and "suffer" a high of less than eighty degrees. I can hardly wait.

This is Just Too Good...

...to pass up.

Steve Howe for Your Friday Evening

Enjoy

Well, I'm Surprised....Or Not

According to think tanks (dumbass assembly), government agencies and news reports, healthcare premiums will rise due to the Affordable Healthcare Act. I could have told them that a few years ago. Of course, they would have needed a cranial extraction from their anus at the time. Unfortunately, the affliction they had - and have - doesn't lead to asphyxiation. If it did, the world would be a much better place.

Wascally Weasel

Can you guess who this is describing? If not, remember it's a manageable problem, as long as the international community becomes involved.

If they cut your head off, place it on video and the only reaction you get is a speech, you don't have a leader; you have a weak little boy that is not qualified to carry the piss of a private in boot camp. How the military can follow an order from this man is beyond me.

Most Won't Like My Solution

Solution to what? Terrorists. Put a bounty on them; include the bankers and other enablers. Give a bonus for more than three at a time and wait for them to arrive.

I think it would be cheaper than bombs. For the few hundred thousand for a smart bomb, I'd think you could get a half dozen terrorists; maybe more; it depends on the market.

Of course, it might be hard to sort them out, but those known to be terrorists could have a big bounty; enough to where a group of enterprising, young, ex-special forces could guarantee their retirement.

Some foreign governments might not like the idea of people running willy-nilly through their country; gathering those that really don't know how bad they pissed off the world, but maybe they could be persuaded by putting a bounty on them too.

"That's horrible."

"I know, but it beats the crap out of seeing innocent people murdered by terrorists."

"But, what if they aren't really a terrorist?"

"Well....the amount of money would be smaller...say a few hundred dollars."

"You're sick!"

"Maybe so, but I haven't seen any of the slack jawed, whistle weenie politicians come up with anything better."

Half Can't Identify the Vagina

This says something about either the women, or the diagram.  I won't elaborate, but maybe they should just ask, or stay away from Twitter for awhile.

Chaos

With all the weapons lost, stolen, or outright given to enemies of the U.S., the chaos of battle has an additional worry: the sound of a weapon of the enemy is the sound of the weapon of a friend. That's not a good thing and it only increases the misery of battle for our troops.

Musings of the Cloud

Internet servers are full of things that many people would like to keep private. Unfortunately, servers aren't without weaknesses, so that information can be compromised. To make things worse, wireless signal transmissions are like throwing paper airplanes of personal information in huge amounts into a supposed empty canyon for only one to capture and secure.

So, some celebrity figures are now realizing tweets and other supposedly private moments were not isolated to only those they intended to observe. Tits and asses are now to be relished by any pervert that can cover the price for a peek. I should feel sorry for them, but ignorance is a bitch, and the price for ignorance costs more than any amount of money.

Labor Day

Warning: If you're offended by adult language, read no farther!


Today is my day. I've labored for over forty years, so this is my day to celebrate....what? Working hard? Celebrating those that are buying meat I can't afford with food stamps and barbecuing on the porch of their section 8 housing...with a power gate and pass code?

How about the hard work of our government employees....all 1/4 of them that probably have any function, while the rest receive a paycheck to harass me to continue their worthless existence? Politicians? Retailers that marked everything up last week so it appears they're giving you a discount on Labor Day?

And only one day? Hell, the President has pissed off weeks, and weeks, on my dime, with security. Labor day should be at least a week; with pay and bonuses. Politicians and bureaucrats should fan me, offer me grapes and beg those that actually produce something not to place a bounty on them and offer prizes for those that are most revolting.

Yep, it's Labor Day; the day honest labor is rewarded like the pivot man at a circle jerk.

Bleh! I need to go cut some grass and trim some trees.