Don't Mess With Texas

You speed through a small town in North Texas and the local Constabulary will run you down and shoot your ass!  Oh, I sorta forgot to mention the guy was a White Supremacist who was likely involved in the shooting death of the head of the Colorado prison system.  

The perp led the cops on a high-speed chase and eventually wrecked out, then got out and engaged in an exchange of gunfire with said Deputy.  Bad move lead-foot!  He was airlifted to a hospital where he was pronounced brain dead.  Game...set...match.

Haha...."brain dead"....White Supremacist....how ironic.

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"So, dad....are you enjoying the iPad we gave you for Christmas?"

The life of a technological Neanderthal is NOT easy.  I should know.  ;)

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Sunday afternoon Luke the Wonderdog attends his first obedience class.  I'm thinking he'll turn his teacher into a cat lover within a week.

If this doesn't work I'm thinking "military school".

Have a great weekend everyone.  :)

S

I fought the lawn and the lawn won

Ahhh.....spring.  That time of the year when we all have visions of turning our hum-drum yards into showplaces like this:

Nurseries and the garden departments at the home improvement stores call this the "100 days of hell" as people come out of the walls buying plants and new sod and seeds.  I've been there myself.  Fresh air, sunshine, being outside without sweating....wonderful!

  But by early August, however, my song was more like "I fought the lawn and the lawn won."

At some point in history somebody....I'm guessing maybe Karl Marx or one of Adolph Hitler's ancestors....decided we didn't have enough to do just surviving and should spend hours and hours outside every week manicuring the field in front of our houses.  Bastards!

Here was an average summer week for me:  Wake up on Friday morning at 5 am, ready to mow as soon as the sun popped it's head.  By 9, dripping wet due to the early morning 99 degree heat, I had mowed, edged, weed-whacked, de-weeded the flower beds, and blown all the grass residue down the street where in theory it would somehow magically disappear.  This gave me Saturday and Sunday free.

But because Southern Botanical had come and fertilized my lawn the week before and it had come a little rain shower on Sunday evening, by Monday my yard was looking pretty shaggy again.  Naturally all my neighbors were in a headlong competition to win the Yard of the Month from our HOA, while I was just hoping to not come in dead last.  

So Monday evening at 7 pm, as the temp was on it's way down from its mid-day hell-on-earth 105, I was back out with that damn lawnmower, just hoping the guy across the street and two houses down would let his go, assuring me #119 to his #120.

Screw buying flowers when I had little yellow ones popping up everywhere for free.  Yes indeed, I definitely had a green thumb.  Johnson grass is green.  So is crabgrass.  And I learned I was quite the entomologist, too.  I always had chinch bugs, grub worms, and other assorted crawlies cavorting all over my yard like it was their Six Flags.  WooHoo!

I finally had my "gesundheit" moment (my 600th sneeze of the week +/-) and threw in the towel.  I hired a yard-mowing crew to come weekly and do all those lawn chores I so hated.  I timed them....their truck came to a screeching halt out front, 3 guys jumped out, and in 14 minutes they had done all those things that used to take me 3 hours. 

Sorry kids, but I spent all your inheritance.  And loved every minute of it.  F__k you Karl Marx!

S

How come they get to have all the fun?

How come all the good stuff happens overseas?  This ^ was a fight that broke out in the Ukrainian Parliament yesterday over...who knows.  Probably one guy said his goat was better looking than the other guy's goat, I dunno.  Anyway, they picked up some fat guy and threw him in the middle and the fight was on.

We need some of that here.  All they do in Washington is talk.  Talk, talk, talk.  Why don't they throw Harry Reid and Mitch McConnell together and let 'em duke it out?  I don't know if it would really accomplish anything, but it would spawn a whole new genre of reality TV.

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It was just announced that apparel maker Lululemon is recalling a popular line of yoga pants because it turns out they're so light weight they're "see thru".  They say yoga practitioners tie themselves in knots, spread, bent, etc, baring all in the process.  

Now I'm about the most un-limber person in the world.  K does yoga every day and has urged me to give it a try.  Had men known the pants all the women were wearing were see-thru they just might have swamped all the yoga studios with new members.  It would have made a pretty convincing sales pitch for sure!

Ummm....just thinking this through....these pants were for women only, right?  I really wouldn't want to see a bunch of other guy's junk first thing every morning.  Noooo.

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And finally....

Spring time in Dallas.   Yea.

S

You know what I'd like to see?

For some time now K has been watching all those cable TV cooking shows.  I'll admit I sorta enjoy watching them, too. My favorite is Giada De Laurentiis.

She boils a mean pot of water.

But I digress.  What I've noticed is that, without fail, they will whip something up, take a bite, throw their heads back and almost orgasmically coo, "Mmmmmmmm!"

Giada does it very well.

Paula Deen does it, too.

As does Rachel Ray.

And it's not just the ladies.  Guy Fieri does it.

So does Bobby Flay.  They all do it.  It's just how they end their shows.

For once, I'd like to see one of them cook like crazy for half an hour, tease us like they do telling us how good it's gonna be, then with the credits running take a big bite and go....

"Oh my Gawd, y'all.  This tastes like crap.  Forget everything I just did.  Don't cook this shit for anyone you love.  Well, OK, it might make a good "breakup" last meal with that dud you're trying to ditch, but no one else."

  "Quick....mouthwash, wine.....SOMETHING....NOW!"  *blech*

Haha!

S

Westy

I know several of you here on Blogger were also active on the now defunct Journal Space, too.  If you were you are most probably familiar with Dorrie Van Cleef, whose pen name was Westy.  News has reached me that she was seriously injured in a small aircraft crash in Germany.  She was airlifted to an area hospital where she underwent surgery.  For reasons unknown she has yet (a week later) to regain consciousness.  Please join me in sending prayers and good thoughts her direction.

Dorrie was an American who as a teenager in California met a young German Luftwaffe  (air force) pilot sent to the US for pilot training.  They moved to Germany where they married and he went on to a career with Lufthansa Airlines and Dorrie raised their family.

They later divorced and Dorrie began her career with the German equivalent of our FAA.  She just retired last year and was enjoying life with a new man-friend.  It was he who was reportedly the pilot of the aircraft that crashed, although Dorrie was herself a licensed pilot.

It was because of our mutual interest in aviation that Dorrie and I became acquainted.  About 5 years ago when she was back here in the US to visit her parents she made it a point to stop here in Dallas and spend a few days with us.  She is a dear friend, and I'm hoping she makes a speedy and complete recovery.

S

Remorse

Did you see this court scene yesterday when 2 teenage star football players were convicted of rape in Ohio?  Right on que they started crying and telling the victim, her family, and anyone who would listen how sorry they were.  

That's the way it always works.  People seem to find remorse as soon as they're arrested, and certainly after being found guilty, right before sentencing.

A little suspicious?  If they had gone home after the rape, felt guilty, and then turned themselves in, I might believe their pleadings of remorse.  It's never too late to get forgiveness, I understand, but how come people only realize they've done something bad AFTER they're caught doing it?

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Remember this scene from a few days ago when hundreds of thousands of people crowded St. Peter's Square looking/hoping for white smoke to come pouring from the little stovepipe at the Vatican?  Here's what I want to know:  Where were the porta-potties?  

Did they have a couple of hundred just a block away out of sight?  I mean, wouldn't that be considered "tending to the needs of the flock"?  I'd think that should be #2 (pardon the pun) right behind "salvation". 

Does anyone but me think of things like this?  It's a helluva lot of responsibility I carry.  ;)

S

Wearin' the green....

Yep.  That's it.  That's all I've got. 

I suppose if I'd thought far enough ahead I could have looked for some of my Scottish family tartan and made a vest or something.  Although with St. Patrick being an Irish dude (right?) I'm not sure flaunting one's Scottish-ness would be too cool.

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While it's sort of a hassle to attend....traffic is terrible and parking is non-existent....the annual Greenville Avenue St. Patrick's Day parade in Dallas is always fun.  Because of a budget crunch at City  Hall this year's event almost wasn't.  But at the last minute Mark Cuban, the wild and crazy owner of the Dallas Maverick's peeled off a few "K" from his bankroll and things went off just like in the good 'ol days.

My favorite parade entrant was always the Paddy O'Furniture Lawn Chair Drill Team.  As my mentor Alfred E. Neuman was fond of saying, "Why be normal?"

Hopefully your St. Paddy's Day / weekend has been a fun one, too.  :)

S