I Wish This Was a Joke
But its not.
Seriously. If you saw that on the Onion... you'd chuckle. But see... its not the Onion... so you just shake your head... and perhaps hope the good Lord comes soon.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Submission: Poopoplata
It seems that more and more we hear of folks training MMA as a hobby. I suggest humbly that the more common this becomes... the more we're going to be reading articles that say things like this:
In Saturday's match against Corey Wethey, Mitchell struck his opponent so hard that Wethey lost control of his bowels. The incident required a 10-minute intermission while officials scrubbed down the ring. Mitchell went on to win the fight by Wethey's disqualification.
The fight -- the seventh of the night - began like any other. Mitchell and Wethey left their corners, tapped gloves and traded punches. After landing a knee to Wethey's body, Mitchell said he began to smell something foul.As the fight prolonged, Mitchell said the smell continued to worsen. Eventually, he removed his mouth piece and expressed his concerns to the ring official.
"He shit himself," Mitchell said repeatedly.
It was at that point Wethey gained the advantage and locked Mitchell's head between his thighs.As the round progressed, news about Wethey's intestinal difficulties slowly made its way to the ring officials, who were at a loss of what to do.
Yes. You read that correctly. Mitchell kneed Wethey so hard he shat himself. Right there in the ring... in front of God and everybody. Look... its one thing to crap yourself because you refused to tap and got choked out. I mean.. its still horrible.. and you'll still be mocked forever... but taking a knee to the gut and involuntarily dropping a load?
For some reason I imagine a stunned ref running around screaming "CODE BROWN!!! CODE BROWN!!!!!!"
Anyway... After reading this I find myself shocked that Tito Ortiz didn't shit himself after taking that knee from Machida.
Pity.
It seems that more and more we hear of folks training MMA as a hobby. I suggest humbly that the more common this becomes... the more we're going to be reading articles that say things like this:
In Saturday's match against Corey Wethey, Mitchell struck his opponent so hard that Wethey lost control of his bowels. The incident required a 10-minute intermission while officials scrubbed down the ring. Mitchell went on to win the fight by Wethey's disqualification.
The fight -- the seventh of the night - began like any other. Mitchell and Wethey left their corners, tapped gloves and traded punches. After landing a knee to Wethey's body, Mitchell said he began to smell something foul.As the fight prolonged, Mitchell said the smell continued to worsen. Eventually, he removed his mouth piece and expressed his concerns to the ring official.
"He shit himself," Mitchell said repeatedly.
It was at that point Wethey gained the advantage and locked Mitchell's head between his thighs.As the round progressed, news about Wethey's intestinal difficulties slowly made its way to the ring officials, who were at a loss of what to do.
Yes. You read that correctly. Mitchell kneed Wethey so hard he shat himself. Right there in the ring... in front of God and everybody. Look... its one thing to crap yourself because you refused to tap and got choked out. I mean.. its still horrible.. and you'll still be mocked forever... but taking a knee to the gut and involuntarily dropping a load?
For some reason I imagine a stunned ref running around screaming "CODE BROWN!!! CODE BROWN!!!!!!"
Anyway... After reading this I find myself shocked that Tito Ortiz didn't shit himself after taking that knee from Machida.
Pity.
Monday, July 14, 2008
NateMail
A wise man observed:
So, the dominoes are starting to topple, and you've got nothing to sayabout it? Is it because you're packing your bags?
I'm busier than the proverbial one legged man in an ass kickin' contest. Feel free to draw your own conclusions. While you're at it though... I'll point out that if you haven't already done so... you better consider liquidating your CDs as much as possible... cash under mattress ain't earnin' interest... on the other hand... it ain't disappearing into thin air either.
Silver... Gold... Ammo... Food.
You need these things.
If you can... you need to be figuring out a way to make some electricity... or provide for yourself without it. Save your pennies as much as you can. In time... everything is gonna be cheap as hell.. because no one is gonna have shit.
If you do have saved... and you can protect what you have... you'll have your whole county by the short hairs people.
Remember the golden rule. Him what has the gold... makes the rules.
Me?
I'll be watching from afar.
A wise man observed:
So, the dominoes are starting to topple, and you've got nothing to sayabout it? Is it because you're packing your bags?
I'm busier than the proverbial one legged man in an ass kickin' contest. Feel free to draw your own conclusions. While you're at it though... I'll point out that if you haven't already done so... you better consider liquidating your CDs as much as possible... cash under mattress ain't earnin' interest... on the other hand... it ain't disappearing into thin air either.
Silver... Gold... Ammo... Food.
You need these things.
If you can... you need to be figuring out a way to make some electricity... or provide for yourself without it. Save your pennies as much as you can. In time... everything is gonna be cheap as hell.. because no one is gonna have shit.
If you do have saved... and you can protect what you have... you'll have your whole county by the short hairs people.
Remember the golden rule. Him what has the gold... makes the rules.
Me?
I'll be watching from afar.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Happy Birthday Elkan!
He is now officially 1... and yet he's wearing 2T clothes. Ya wonder why we call him Hoss. Seriously though... I know I've said it before... but you've probably never met a baby this happy or this easy goin'. He just rolls with the punches. Need to skip a nap because we're out rippin' and runnin'? No problem. Eating later than normal? Sure ok. Going to be late? Cool... whatever. New food? Awesome!
The kid is so much fun.
He is now officially 1... and yet he's wearing 2T clothes. Ya wonder why we call him Hoss. Seriously though... I know I've said it before... but you've probably never met a baby this happy or this easy goin'. He just rolls with the punches. Need to skip a nap because we're out rippin' and runnin'? No problem. Eating later than normal? Sure ok. Going to be late? Cool... whatever. New food? Awesome!
The kid is so much fun.
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
Bad Joke Wednesday
Porcus gets us started off:
When I was in Alaska a couple of years back; the joke went like this...Two important rules for hikers in Bear Country:
1. Wear bells and carry pepper spray. Bells will alert bears to your prescence and pepper spray can be useful in deterring aggressive bears.
2. Watch for evidence of bears as you travel. Bears can easily be identified by their scat. Black bears leave small, dark, round droppings that typically include seeds and plant residue. Grizzly bears leave enormous piles of caynene pepper scented feces which often includes bells.
Now how about some ol' classics?
- What's tuba plus tuba?
Fourba.
- How does the ocean say hi to the beach?
He gives a little wave.
- Where was the Declaration of Independance signed?
At the bottom!
- How did Vikings communicate?
By norse code!
Luke contributes this little jewel:
An atom walks into a bar, gets wasted. As he's leaving, he slaps his pockets and says, "Damn, I've lost an electron". The bartender said "Are you sure?"
So the atom says, "I'm positive!"
Porcus gets us started off:
When I was in Alaska a couple of years back; the joke went like this...Two important rules for hikers in Bear Country:
1. Wear bells and carry pepper spray. Bells will alert bears to your prescence and pepper spray can be useful in deterring aggressive bears.
2. Watch for evidence of bears as you travel. Bears can easily be identified by their scat. Black bears leave small, dark, round droppings that typically include seeds and plant residue. Grizzly bears leave enormous piles of caynene pepper scented feces which often includes bells.
Now how about some ol' classics?
- What's tuba plus tuba?
Fourba.
- How does the ocean say hi to the beach?
He gives a little wave.
- Where was the Declaration of Independance signed?
At the bottom!
- How did Vikings communicate?
By norse code!
Luke contributes this little jewel:
An atom walks into a bar, gets wasted. As he's leaving, he slaps his pockets and says, "Damn, I've lost an electron". The bartender said "Are you sure?"
So the atom says, "I'm positive!"
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
Tortilla Soup!!!
INGREDIENTS
1 onion, chopped
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 teaspoons chili powder
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1 (28 ounce) can crushed tomatoes
1 (10.5 ounce) can condensed chicken broth
1 1/4 cups water
1 cup whole corn kernels, cooked
1 cup white hominy
1 (4 ounce) can chopped green chile peppers
1 (15 ounce) can black beans, rinsed and drained
1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro
2 boneless chicken breast halves, cooked and cut into bite-sized pieces
crushed tortilla chips
sliced avocado
shredded Monterey Jack cheese
chopped green onions
DIRECTIONS
In a medium stock pot, heat oil over medium heat. Saute onion and garlic in oil until soft. Stir in chili powder, oregano, tomatoes, broth, and water. Bring to a boil, and simmer for 5 to 10 minutes.
Stir in corn, hominy, chiles, beans, cilantro, and chicken. Simmer for 10 minutes.
Ladle soup into individual serving bowls, and top with crushed tortilla chips, avocado slices, cheese, and chopped green onion.
We made this tonight... I would point out that people have different ideas of how thick this soup should be. Some think it should be really soupy... others think it should be thick.. almost like chilli. If you'd like it soupy... add more chicken broth. We actually used almost 64 oz of chicken broth. We also added a little cumin... maybe a teaspoon... just because.
Very. Very. Good. Start to ready to eat... it takes about an hour including prep time... But its something you can make while multi-tasking.
INGREDIENTS
1 onion, chopped
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 teaspoons chili powder
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1 (28 ounce) can crushed tomatoes
1 (10.5 ounce) can condensed chicken broth
1 1/4 cups water
1 cup whole corn kernels, cooked
1 cup white hominy
1 (4 ounce) can chopped green chile peppers
1 (15 ounce) can black beans, rinsed and drained
1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro
2 boneless chicken breast halves, cooked and cut into bite-sized pieces
crushed tortilla chips
sliced avocado
shredded Monterey Jack cheese
chopped green onions
DIRECTIONS
In a medium stock pot, heat oil over medium heat. Saute onion and garlic in oil until soft. Stir in chili powder, oregano, tomatoes, broth, and water. Bring to a boil, and simmer for 5 to 10 minutes.
Stir in corn, hominy, chiles, beans, cilantro, and chicken. Simmer for 10 minutes.
Ladle soup into individual serving bowls, and top with crushed tortilla chips, avocado slices, cheese, and chopped green onion.
We made this tonight... I would point out that people have different ideas of how thick this soup should be. Some think it should be really soupy... others think it should be thick.. almost like chilli. If you'd like it soupy... add more chicken broth. We actually used almost 64 oz of chicken broth. We also added a little cumin... maybe a teaspoon... just because.
Very. Very. Good. Start to ready to eat... it takes about an hour including prep time... But its something you can make while multi-tasking.
Sunday, July 06, 2008
Don't Talk to Cops, Part 1
You have to watch this. You have to.
Yes... he's annoying as hell and he talks to damned fast. Deal with it.
Don't Talk to Cops, Part 2
Again... you simply have to watch these videos. In this episode we have a detective describing the tactics he uses in the interview room.
Pay Attention.
Pay particular attention to his attitude towards those he is interviewing. In his mind... if you are in that room... you are guilty. Period. Therefore any underhanded lie or trick is perfectly justifiable to employ to prove that you are guilty... because if you weren't.... you wouldn't be in that room in the first place.
This will open your eyes.
Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never talk to the cops.
It can never help you. It can only hurt you... and it will hurt you every single time.
Telling the truth will not set you free. Telling the truth will help them throw your ass in jail.
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
Ozark Assault
It was getting pretty late in the day on Sunday as we rolled into Beebe. It was hot... and we were tired and startin' to make mistakes. It was time to find a spot to pack it in. Now for them what don't know... you do not ride in Arkansas at night.
Even up on the mountains... we found clouds of mosquitos... were it not for deet... I dare say we'd've been sucked dry and left to rot up there. If you look at the two pictures to the left... you'll see the cloud of doom in the light... and the one below it... that's a pile of dead bugs the folks at the gas stations sweep up every morning. There were three or four of those piles at the gas station we stopped at.. and the girl wasn't done sweeping.
We set up Camp Cherolis... and settled in for wouldn't be an uneventful night. I mean really... what trip is worthwhile that doesn't involve sever thunderstorms?
I remember we rounded this one bend... and the next thing we know... we're climbing up the hill from hell. Its a trail maybe 7 feet wide... huge rocks scattered all over it... big ruts... mud... sand... washboards... everything you can think of.
We road up... up... up... it just kept climbing... seemed like forever. And then... it opened up... and we found we could see for miles. No telling how many counties we could see from up there. These pictures of the view are not even from over looks. That just what we were seeing as we were riding around. We'd stop periodicly and take pictures.. just because... ya know... damn.
I particularly like these two pictures below. If you look at them full sized... you can find a cooling tower from a nuclear power plant in each one. The Picture on the right was taken about 15 minutes before the one on the left.
If ya find the tower in each picture... you should get a pretty good idea of the kind of ground we were covering.
The day ended at the famous Oark Store. The place has been in continuous operation since 1890. Its never been closed... not even when they updated the kitchen.
It was getting pretty late in the day on Sunday as we rolled into Beebe. It was hot... and we were tired and startin' to make mistakes. It was time to find a spot to pack it in. Now for them what don't know... you do not ride in Arkansas at night.Why? Bugs. That's why. Arkansas at night is like something out of the Old Testament. There is a fog of bugs that decends on the place like some sort of plague. When we blasted through the state on the Intercontinental Ballistic Missile Tour we were stopping every 10 minutes to scrub the dead bugs from our face shields.
Even up on the mountains... we found clouds of mosquitos... were it not for deet... I dare say we'd've been sucked dry and left to rot up there. If you look at the two pictures to the left... you'll see the cloud of doom in the light... and the one below it... that's a pile of dead bugs the folks at the gas stations sweep up every morning. There were three or four of those piles at the gas station we stopped at.. and the girl wasn't done sweeping.Anyway... from Beebe we decided to shoot up to Heber Springs to pitch a tent. If you ever need an out of the ordinary place to go and relax for a few days... find your way there boys. Its on a gorgeous mountain lake. Its a slow... simple town. Its perfect.
We set up Camp Cherolis... and settled in for wouldn't be an uneventful night. I mean really... what trip is worthwhile that doesn't involve sever thunderstorms?All in all it wasn't that bad. The chicks at the ranger's station were hot... and we nearly got a contact high from all the folks burnin' herb around us. Coulda been worse.
We rolled out of Beebe early monday... heading into some angry dark clouds. It was the same ol' stuff for the first few hours. Lots of gravel roads... but the hills were getting longer... and the flat stretches were getting shorter. It wasn't long before we found ourselves in the Ozark National Forest riding maintanence roads and haul roads.
I remember we rounded this one bend... and the next thing we know... we're climbing up the hill from hell. Its a trail maybe 7 feet wide... huge rocks scattered all over it... big ruts... mud... sand... washboards... everything you can think of.I have no idea what JAC did... becasue he was behind me. I just crack the throttle wide open and hung on. The KLX ate it alive. I got to the top... and waited... stunned... in front of a log cabin. Someone lived up there! I mean... we were 45 minutes from a paved road! probably an hour or more from any kind of store.
We road up... up... up... it just kept climbing... seemed like forever. And then... it opened up... and we found we could see for miles. No telling how many counties we could see from up there. These pictures of the view are not even from over looks. That just what we were seeing as we were riding around. We'd stop periodicly and take pictures.. just because... ya know... damn.I particularly like these two pictures below. If you look at them full sized... you can find a cooling tower from a nuclear power plant in each one. The Picture on the right was taken about 15 minutes before the one on the left.
If ya find the tower in each picture... you should get a pretty good idea of the kind of ground we were covering.
A really bizarre thing happened up there... at one point.. all the trees around us disappeared.. and we found ourselves riding with insane views on each side of us. I couldn't help but get off the bike to look around a little... and that's when I realized I had 500 foot cliffs on either side of me.
Yeah... My feet got all tingly... cause I mean... dude this road was tiny. We were effectively riding the top of a ride that was all of 10 feet wide... with sheer drops on either side. A screw up here.. and they'd never find you... or the bike.
For the rest of the day we blasted through these mountain "roads"... hitting awesome creek crossings... and playing our favorite game... "splash your brother with you back tire". Its exactly what it sounds like... you find a big puddle and try to time it so you throw mud and water all over the other guy. Big fun!
The day ended at the famous Oark Store. The place has been in continuous operation since 1890. Its never been closed... not even when they updated the kitchen.Big Wheels Rule
I find myself seriously considering sponsoring and organizing a Big Wheel race. I remember competing in one when I was like 6... and yes... I won. As I recall I was supposed to get a new bike... but I never got it.
See the kid I raced in the finals started to early... then the finish was aparently to close to call even after he got the jump on me.
At any rate before the official results came in they announced the other kid won and gave him the bike. We were packing my big wheel into the car when they came over and told us I had actually won.
I remember being so pissed about them saying the kid beat me when he clearly didn't... that I didn't care when they told me they were letting him keep the bike because they thought it would hurt his feelings to give it to him.. then take it away.
I didn't care. I won. I got the trophy.
Bitch.
They stopped doing the big Big Wheel Race after the contraversy.
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
Knowing Arkansas
Arkansas is perhaps the only state in the union to rival Tennessee when it comes to varied geography. In a matter of hours in either place... you go from rice patties and swamps to mountains.
Arkansas is perhaps the only state in the union to rival Tennessee when it comes to varied geography. In a matter of hours in either place... you go from rice patties and swamps to mountains.
Starting out around Helena... we spend the first day riding past swamps... cat fish farms... and rice patties. The gravel roads we rode were a continual suprise... at every turn you could find
yourself in deep gravel (slick), or deeper pea gravel (really slick), or gravel on top of sealed gravel (why?) or our favorite... plain ol' dirt.Each day it seemed we'd deal with an adjustment period in the morning... where we had to get our dirt legs back. For the first half hour or so we'd ride these roads at 30mph... by the afternoon we'd be riding them at 60. See... the whole thing takes a little getting used to. A street bike doesn't move around beneath you. If it does... its bad... perhaps very bad. To contrast... blasting down a gravel or dirt road... the klx dances around considerably while the glorious mx suspension handles the various ruts and such.
At any rate... Sunday morning we came upon our first real challenge... slick silt... soaked in mud. A stretch of road... a nice stretch of road... water had spilled over from a farmer's field and created a dadgummed pond in the middle of a curve!We stopped and walked around a bit and came to accept there was just no damned way around it. Believe it or not.. the video below is JAC riding through it.
We came upon a similar obstacle on the same road... no video this time... it wasn't in a curve.. but it was was deeper... and it lasted longer.
Easy boys... we're talking about motorcycles.
Now I guess it was Sunday afternoon... when we were really in the groove... riding hard... fast... through gravel and dust for miles... when the first of our tall tales jumped out into the road.
I had just made a left turn onto yet another gravel road... uphill... I cracked the throttle wide open and put my left foot down... shift to second... 9000 rpms... shift to third... the KLX is running so good... its loosened up and the power is delivered well... I top the hill... and I'll be damned if this 3 toothed redneck in overalls didn't run out into the road waving his arms like he had some sort of palsy.
Of course I stopped... I mean... we were armed... and come on... that had to be a story right? Turns out... his name was Orin.
Orin: Hey! Hey stop man! Stop!!
JAC: Well hey feller what's the matter?
Orin: Y'all gotta stop man! Y'all gotta stop!
JAC: What's the matter?
Orin: Man... I sit down here ever day man and I see these crazy fuckers on motorcycles man... they all ride down this road... but they never come back man!
Nate: ...
Orin: I dunno what the hell's down this road but whatever it is... it don't like motorcycles man!
JAC: ...
Orin: I'm just fuckin' with ya man! HA! No really y'all are ridin' that trail ain't ya? I knew ya were. See... for a long time I didn't know what the deal was man. These bikes would pass by here... but they'd never come back! Finally last week I saw a group comin'.. so by God I went out there and stopped 'em. I was like, "Hey.. what the fuck are y'all doin' out here... where the fuck are you goin'?" Hehehe.. man... they was from England... so you know I think they was a little taken aback... their eyes got big and stuff... but they told about the trail so I got in there and looked it up on the computer man.
Now I have to take a break from the dialog here... which I must remind you is a completley accurate representation of what we listened to in stunned silence. I mean.. until we burst into laughter at the thought of some terrified euro peons confronted with an honest to God Arkansas redneck. Poor guys must've thought they'd stumbled into the set of Deliverence.
That's Orin there... next to a 275hp tractor! back to the tale...
JAC: man y'all have some beautiful country around here... we've seen catfish farms... rice patties... everything.
Orin: Oh yeah its pretty nice. Have y'all noticed them trucks with the big oxygen tanks on the back? Them things are haulin' live catfish man... all the way up to New York. Don't ask me why they bother haulin' 'em alive...
JAC: who eats catfish in New York?
Orin: Oh them chinamen up there eat the hell out of 'em man... but they don't know no better. Its just like them black berries. Down the road there's a big black berry farm.. classy place man... ol fella and his two boys runs it... well the ol' man was tellin' his boys to pick a bunch of berries but his boys didn't think they was ready... you know they was the right color but the glaze was all wrong... so they was like.. you know... "dad these ain't ripe yet." That ol' man got all pissed off... "Pick them damned berries and ship up to those damned jews in New York! They ain't never had no damned black berries! They don't know!"
Dude... on a trip full of characters... Orin stood out.
Many more tales to follow... some true.
Now I guess it was Sunday afternoon... when we were really in the groove... riding hard... fast... through gravel and dust for miles... when the first of our tall tales jumped out into the road.
I had just made a left turn onto yet another gravel road... uphill... I cracked the throttle wide open and put my left foot down... shift to second... 9000 rpms... shift to third... the KLX is running so good... its loosened up and the power is delivered well... I top the hill... and I'll be damned if this 3 toothed redneck in overalls didn't run out into the road waving his arms like he had some sort of palsy.
Of course I stopped... I mean... we were armed... and come on... that had to be a story right? Turns out... his name was Orin.
Orin: Hey! Hey stop man! Stop!!
JAC: Well hey feller what's the matter?
Orin: Y'all gotta stop man! Y'all gotta stop!
JAC: What's the matter?
Orin: Man... I sit down here ever day man and I see these crazy fuckers on motorcycles man... they all ride down this road... but they never come back man!
Nate: ...
Orin: I dunno what the hell's down this road but whatever it is... it don't like motorcycles man!
JAC: ...
Orin: I'm just fuckin' with ya man! HA! No really y'all are ridin' that trail ain't ya? I knew ya were. See... for a long time I didn't know what the deal was man. These bikes would pass by here... but they'd never come back! Finally last week I saw a group comin'.. so by God I went out there and stopped 'em. I was like, "Hey.. what the fuck are y'all doin' out here... where the fuck are you goin'?" Hehehe.. man... they was from England... so you know I think they was a little taken aback... their eyes got big and stuff... but they told about the trail so I got in there and looked it up on the computer man.
Now I have to take a break from the dialog here... which I must remind you is a completley accurate representation of what we listened to in stunned silence. I mean.. until we burst into laughter at the thought of some terrified euro peons confronted with an honest to God Arkansas redneck. Poor guys must've thought they'd stumbled into the set of Deliverence.That's Orin there... next to a 275hp tractor! back to the tale...
JAC: man y'all have some beautiful country around here... we've seen catfish farms... rice patties... everything.
Orin: Oh yeah its pretty nice. Have y'all noticed them trucks with the big oxygen tanks on the back? Them things are haulin' live catfish man... all the way up to New York. Don't ask me why they bother haulin' 'em alive...
JAC: who eats catfish in New York?
Orin: Oh them chinamen up there eat the hell out of 'em man... but they don't know no better. Its just like them black berries. Down the road there's a big black berry farm.. classy place man... ol fella and his two boys runs it... well the ol' man was tellin' his boys to pick a bunch of berries but his boys didn't think they was ready... you know they was the right color but the glaze was all wrong... so they was like.. you know... "dad these ain't ripe yet." That ol' man got all pissed off... "Pick them damned berries and ship up to those damned jews in New York! They ain't never had no damned black berries! They don't know!"
Dude... on a trip full of characters... Orin stood out.
Many more tales to follow... some true.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Das Fone
Holy crap dude... my new 8925 just showed up. dude.... DUDE... you have no idea what a little bitch the iphone is until you see this thing. Its a monster. slide out qwerty keyboard... huge... flip up tilt screen! 3.2megapixel camera! oh... and the processor... dear lord... While on a call... I check my email... jump back to the call... finish up.. and low and behold... the built in GPS has been running in the background the whole time!!!
bad. ass.
Holy crap dude... my new 8925 just showed up. dude.... DUDE... you have no idea what a little bitch the iphone is until you see this thing. Its a monster. slide out qwerty keyboard... huge... flip up tilt screen! 3.2megapixel camera! oh... and the processor... dear lord... While on a call... I check my email... jump back to the call... finish up.. and low and behold... the built in GPS has been running in the background the whole time!!!
bad. ass.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
And... We're Back
1600 miles later... approximately 500 of them on dirt. We can now say we know Arkansas... and when I say know... I mean it in the biblical sense. We've seen Arkansas as few Arkansans have... from the pancake flat rice farms and cat fish farms in the south... up through the Ozark National Forest and all points in between. I won't even pretend to accurately list all the little towns passed through... but I'll tell ya the ones that stick in my mind this morning...
Helena, Clarendon, Beebe, Heber Springs, Oark, Clarksville, Lincoln... and Lord... maybe... 100 others... I guess it wouldn't be fair otherwise... so before I run off to play with my boys I'll share one tale.
Now what we were ridin' is called the Trans Am Trail. If you can imagine... the prick that planned the route sells highlighted county maps... and roll charts. No GPS directions. He's afraid if he gives those out... people will share them. So... here we go... riding down dirt roads like its 1960.... scrolling a little paper ribbon with turn by turn instructions printed on it like a never ending reciept.
Thankfully we at least had the GPS way points for most of the turns.
Well anyway when we finally made it to Helena and started the trail we were both pretty fired up... but we were not yet in TAT mode... we'd been on big roads all day. So here is my poor brother... following these damned instructions on this damned ancient device. And he's so caught up in making sure we're in the right spot... he apparently forgets exactly what we're doing in the first place. Sure enough... we make this left turn... and up ahead... I could see this coming... oh lord... 1000 yards in front of us... road turns to gravel... And up there is JAC... with his face stuck on the GPS.
If this had been caught on video it would've been one of the great Oh Shit moments of all time.
He didn't see the gravel until the bike was already in it... and it was that deep pea gravel crap... hell on bikes. Oh man... bike was floppin' ever which way... he was kickin' his legs out this way and that... and I was laughin' my ass off.
He held her up... somehow... and he took it real well... I mean when your riding buddies can be heard laughin' 50 yards behind ya... well... something probably went wrong. Anyway... as you can imagine... we've a million tales to tell.
But in the mean time... I have a question for the ladies....
What in the hell is attactive about a couple of dirty, stinky men riding around on dirt bikes? We've never been so tired nor nasty in our whole lives... and I am skeptical that we've ever been so thoroughly and consistently attractive to the fairer sex. I mean here we were out on our own... and we've got every damned woman and girl throwing overt signals at us. Waitresses would drop down on their knees beside our seats and put their hand on our knees while we "chatted"... or my personal favorite... they'd bend over... plop tits on the table... and look up and say, "Is their anything else y'all need?" while straining their neck and arching their back to make sure we got to see every possible millimeter of cleavage.
DrWho's theory is... the male having physical fun is at his most attractive state.
Anyway.. we behaved ourselves in that area... but I'm pretty sure if we'd stayed gone another couple days... JAC woulda been humpin' my leg.
1600 miles later... approximately 500 of them on dirt. We can now say we know Arkansas... and when I say know... I mean it in the biblical sense. We've seen Arkansas as few Arkansans have... from the pancake flat rice farms and cat fish farms in the south... up through the Ozark National Forest and all points in between. I won't even pretend to accurately list all the little towns passed through... but I'll tell ya the ones that stick in my mind this morning...
Helena, Clarendon, Beebe, Heber Springs, Oark, Clarksville, Lincoln... and Lord... maybe... 100 others... I guess it wouldn't be fair otherwise... so before I run off to play with my boys I'll share one tale.
Now what we were ridin' is called the Trans Am Trail. If you can imagine... the prick that planned the route sells highlighted county maps... and roll charts. No GPS directions. He's afraid if he gives those out... people will share them. So... here we go... riding down dirt roads like its 1960.... scrolling a little paper ribbon with turn by turn instructions printed on it like a never ending reciept.
Thankfully we at least had the GPS way points for most of the turns.
Well anyway when we finally made it to Helena and started the trail we were both pretty fired up... but we were not yet in TAT mode... we'd been on big roads all day. So here is my poor brother... following these damned instructions on this damned ancient device. And he's so caught up in making sure we're in the right spot... he apparently forgets exactly what we're doing in the first place. Sure enough... we make this left turn... and up ahead... I could see this coming... oh lord... 1000 yards in front of us... road turns to gravel... And up there is JAC... with his face stuck on the GPS.
If this had been caught on video it would've been one of the great Oh Shit moments of all time.
He didn't see the gravel until the bike was already in it... and it was that deep pea gravel crap... hell on bikes. Oh man... bike was floppin' ever which way... he was kickin' his legs out this way and that... and I was laughin' my ass off.
He held her up... somehow... and he took it real well... I mean when your riding buddies can be heard laughin' 50 yards behind ya... well... something probably went wrong. Anyway... as you can imagine... we've a million tales to tell.
But in the mean time... I have a question for the ladies....
What in the hell is attactive about a couple of dirty, stinky men riding around on dirt bikes? We've never been so tired nor nasty in our whole lives... and I am skeptical that we've ever been so thoroughly and consistently attractive to the fairer sex. I mean here we were out on our own... and we've got every damned woman and girl throwing overt signals at us. Waitresses would drop down on their knees beside our seats and put their hand on our knees while we "chatted"... or my personal favorite... they'd bend over... plop tits on the table... and look up and say, "Is their anything else y'all need?" while straining their neck and arching their back to make sure we got to see every possible millimeter of cleavage.
DrWho's theory is... the male having physical fun is at his most attractive state.
Anyway.. we behaved ourselves in that area... but I'm pretty sure if we'd stayed gone another couple days... JAC woulda been humpin' my leg.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Ear Protection
oh what? So you expected me to stuff those gay little foam things in my ears? Or worse yet... some headset... so I can look like some kind of air traffic controller from 1981? No thanks.
Turns out... .223 rounds make a perfect seal in many ear canals. So there ya go Luke... they're good for something after all... I mean besides poppin' cats.
And lets face it people... there is such a thing as Range Cred... and smoking 50 yard targets with medium framed semiauto pistols while your ears are stuffed with live rounds certainly gets it.
Laugh all you want... at least half of you are stuffing .223s into your ears right now just to see if it works.
Monday, June 16, 2008
One Fine Day
If you would permit me... I would ask your indulgence... as I take a brief moment to brag about my family. And... since its my blog... should you deny me... I will simply give you the metaphorical bird and do it anyway... dammit.
Father's Day began the way all should... a morning ride with a beautiful girl... on a gorgeous day with nary a cloud in the sky. It was as if God looked down and smiled on middle Tennessee... as He so often does.
We left the boys with DJ and hit the old roads for short ride. I suppose we were about to turn for home when DrWho decided she hadn't quite had enough and suggested a trip by mom and dad's.
Serendipity! We head over there... have a quick cup of coffee and invite them to breakfast with us...
Breakfast... Father's Day Breakfast.... at THE Cracker Barrel! I salivate from the mere memory. Sausage, Eggs, Biscuits and Gravy, Grits, Chicken Fried Chicken with more Gravy, Hashbrown Caserole... I waddled out of there. There are few joys like this... Enjoying a meal with my parents... my wife... 3 boys.. and bonus!!! DJ! My boys are very well behaved in public... but the are always Rock Stars at Cracker Barrel. I don't know what it is... Jeb is just a shameless flirt. The cute blonde waitresses get hugs and kisses...Can't imagine where he got that. Plus Eli has to make the rounds to talk to every baby in the place.
So how do you improve on this?
Well duh...
Julie and the boys go shooting with me! How's that for a Father's Day Tradition? No range reports right now... I'll just point out that apparently both the Steyr and the Glock .45 shoot inside 10 inches at 50 yards. 50 YARDS!!!!
So then of course... its off to get some ice cream... where in it occured to us... hrmm...
See my Dad really enjoys TV. No really. He REALLY enjoys it. He's a babyboomer. I make no judgement... I'm just sayin'. So see... my parents TV went tits up... and he's been relegated to a 27 inch Cathode Ray monstrosity built in like 1991. Meanwhile... JAC and I both abhore television... but we both have BadAss HD LCDs.
This is pure injustice... and Julie and I just couldn't abide. I mean.. it would be like dad having a 1200GSA down in the basement while we rode around on early 90s GS500s.
So what did we do?
We did the one thing left that would improve the day.
Dad got called into work... so he walked out of the house 10 minutes before we carried in his new 42 inch Plasma.
I don't think I'll get to be there when he gets home to see it... but I'm confident he'll stare at it... agape... awe struck... mouth open stunned... for like two hours. This is precisely the reaction I have in mind.
Mom called him... and handed me the phone... and when I told him the news... all he could muster to get out was "you... you...you can't do that!" You can't!"
"Oh? I can't? I do believe I get to decide what I am or am not gonna get you on Father's Day."
"But... I... I... I don't know what to say."
Unfortunately... that was true... and since he didn't know what else to say... he just said thank you.... over and over and over.
He even went so far as to call my brothers... and tell them to tell me thank you.
I really couldn't tell you if which I enjoyed more... Cracker Barrel or carryin' that box into mom and dad's house...
Y'all when shootin' with your family is the third most fun you had... it was a damned fine day. Dads... It is my sincerest hope that you were as celebrated as I... and fellow son's and daughters... I hope you had as much fun celebrating your dad as I did.
If you would permit me... I would ask your indulgence... as I take a brief moment to brag about my family. And... since its my blog... should you deny me... I will simply give you the metaphorical bird and do it anyway... dammit.
Father's Day began the way all should... a morning ride with a beautiful girl... on a gorgeous day with nary a cloud in the sky. It was as if God looked down and smiled on middle Tennessee... as He so often does.
We left the boys with DJ and hit the old roads for short ride. I suppose we were about to turn for home when DrWho decided she hadn't quite had enough and suggested a trip by mom and dad's.
Serendipity! We head over there... have a quick cup of coffee and invite them to breakfast with us...
Breakfast... Father's Day Breakfast.... at THE Cracker Barrel! I salivate from the mere memory. Sausage, Eggs, Biscuits and Gravy, Grits, Chicken Fried Chicken with more Gravy, Hashbrown Caserole... I waddled out of there. There are few joys like this... Enjoying a meal with my parents... my wife... 3 boys.. and bonus!!! DJ! My boys are very well behaved in public... but the are always Rock Stars at Cracker Barrel. I don't know what it is... Jeb is just a shameless flirt. The cute blonde waitresses get hugs and kisses...Can't imagine where he got that. Plus Eli has to make the rounds to talk to every baby in the place.
So how do you improve on this?
Well duh...
Julie and the boys go shooting with me! How's that for a Father's Day Tradition? No range reports right now... I'll just point out that apparently both the Steyr and the Glock .45 shoot inside 10 inches at 50 yards. 50 YARDS!!!!
So then of course... its off to get some ice cream... where in it occured to us... hrmm...
See my Dad really enjoys TV. No really. He REALLY enjoys it. He's a babyboomer. I make no judgement... I'm just sayin'. So see... my parents TV went tits up... and he's been relegated to a 27 inch Cathode Ray monstrosity built in like 1991. Meanwhile... JAC and I both abhore television... but we both have BadAss HD LCDs.
This is pure injustice... and Julie and I just couldn't abide. I mean.. it would be like dad having a 1200GSA down in the basement while we rode around on early 90s GS500s.
So what did we do?
We did the one thing left that would improve the day.
Dad got called into work... so he walked out of the house 10 minutes before we carried in his new 42 inch Plasma.
I don't think I'll get to be there when he gets home to see it... but I'm confident he'll stare at it... agape... awe struck... mouth open stunned... for like two hours. This is precisely the reaction I have in mind.
Mom called him... and handed me the phone... and when I told him the news... all he could muster to get out was "you... you...you can't do that!" You can't!"
"Oh? I can't? I do believe I get to decide what I am or am not gonna get you on Father's Day."
"But... I... I... I don't know what to say."
Unfortunately... that was true... and since he didn't know what else to say... he just said thank you.... over and over and over.
He even went so far as to call my brothers... and tell them to tell me thank you.
I really couldn't tell you if which I enjoyed more... Cracker Barrel or carryin' that box into mom and dad's house...
Y'all when shootin' with your family is the third most fun you had... it was a damned fine day. Dads... It is my sincerest hope that you were as celebrated as I... and fellow son's and daughters... I hope you had as much fun celebrating your dad as I did.
Friday, June 13, 2008
PWNED
I always enjoy it when an expert on a particular topic takes the time and trouble to swat a fly. Here I present for your enjoyment... one such incident... where John Coleman, the man who founded the Weather Channel, turns his attention to Al Gore and the idiot Global Warming Crowd.
I always enjoy it when an expert on a particular topic takes the time and trouble to swat a fly. Here I present for your enjoyment... one such incident... where John Coleman, the man who founded the Weather Channel, turns his attention to Al Gore and the idiot Global Warming Crowd.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Drink it Away!
Its summer... and with my wife planning a ginormous party this weekend... I've decided to being creating a sangria.... creation. I'm starting basic as it gets and going from there. Tonight... I'm rolling with this:
1 lemon
1 lime
1 orange
6 strawberries
1 cup pineapple wedges w/ juice
1/2 cup sugar
1 1/2 cup spiced rum (The Captain!)
1 750ml bottle of red wine
1 cup orange juice
I sliced the fruit into thin rounds and put it in a glass pitcher with the sugar and the rum... and I've let it sit in the fridge... I'm thinkin' about 2 hours. Then later tonight I'll add the wine and orange juice.
I picked up a bottle of ginger ale to add just in case.
What do you think? suggestions are welcome.
***UPDATE***
UnHoly Budda On a Popscicle stick! That crap is SWEET. Way to sweet. So far... the most successful attempt is... pour 1/3 of a tall glass full of the above mixture.. then fill the rest with ginger ale.
It is still very very sweet... but if it were 95 degrees outside and someone handed you a glass of this stuff... you'd drink it down and beg for more.
Its summer... and with my wife planning a ginormous party this weekend... I've decided to being creating a sangria.... creation. I'm starting basic as it gets and going from there. Tonight... I'm rolling with this:
1 lemon
1 lime
1 orange
6 strawberries
1 cup pineapple wedges w/ juice
1/2 cup sugar
1 1/2 cup spiced rum (The Captain!)
1 750ml bottle of red wine
1 cup orange juice
I sliced the fruit into thin rounds and put it in a glass pitcher with the sugar and the rum... and I've let it sit in the fridge... I'm thinkin' about 2 hours. Then later tonight I'll add the wine and orange juice.
I picked up a bottle of ginger ale to add just in case.
What do you think? suggestions are welcome.
***UPDATE***
UnHoly Budda On a Popscicle stick! That crap is SWEET. Way to sweet. So far... the most successful attempt is... pour 1/3 of a tall glass full of the above mixture.. then fill the rest with ginger ale.
It is still very very sweet... but if it were 95 degrees outside and someone handed you a glass of this stuff... you'd drink it down and beg for more.
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