Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Setting aside the topic of wife training for a later post... let's talk about your first bike. Obviously it is a question that depends on a lot of factors... but I'm going to offer one general all-around option.
If you want a bike that is ultimately reliable... fun to ride... gets very good gas milage... and is easy to learn on.. I strongly recommend the Ninja 500.
Kawi has been making this bike since like 1988.. and I don't think its been changed at all since about 1993. There's a reason for that... its proven. There is no reason to change it. It does what it does extremely well.
It will put a smile on your face.
You won't have to spend all your time wrenching on it.
You will save $$$ in gas.
And no.. I don't care what anyone says... it is not to little for you.
Monday, May 26, 2008
So the radar showed a nasty line of storms... the southern edge was following I40. So... I figure I'll do a big south loop... come up behind it... and I've a nice sunny ride... and get home dry.
Yeah... that worked.
50 miles south of what was supposed to be the southern edge of the storm... I ran into a frog choker. Understand... I don't mean rain.... I mean it come a flood... all at once. I really don't give a damn about water fallin' from the sky. The trouble is... when it comes down so damned hard it ain't got no where to go... so it just puddles up on the dadgummed road. I'm hoping I don't have to explain how danergous that is on a bike. Hell... its dangerous enough in a cage.
Cage... that's what we call those things you drive around in.
Ah well.... the bike did well... no problems... but a windshield would've been nice.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Its a hard life. As I sit here... poolside... hangin' with my boys... rockin' irish drinking songs... sippin' fruity beverages... I can't help but chuckle to myself at those who mock me. I mean... to think... here I am spending a day like this... when I could be in a cubicle somewhere. I could be at a bank... crunching numbers... I could be in a hot damned factory.
yeah... sign me up.
I mean... who needs to spend days like this... when I could have the "freedom" to have to go to work 5 or 6 days a week for 8 to 10 hours a day. Because dude... I'm miserable...
Can't ya tell?
Anyway... for those of you still suck in cubical hell... take comfort in this... somewhere... someone is getting away with someting.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Monday, May 19, 2008
Few things are this personal... this... private. What I am about to share... I have no business sharing... and what I am about to ask... I have no business asking.
Still... When has that stopped me?
My first... I was 10 years old... It was actually at Walmart.
I remember I had my own cash on me... cash I had horded from birthdays and christmases gone by... And I simply could not resist...
It was the first time I betrayed the toy section... and chose instead the music section. To this day I have no idea why I got why I did... something about the jacket.. of course... I've always been a pirate at heart... so could I really have been expected to resist the chrome skull and cross bones?
I bought it... I loved it... I absolutely wore the tape out. I listened to it continually... and no doubt my parents wanted to ring my neck for it. I got to the point that I could play the drum parts in my sleep.
Now... think back to 1983.... imagine a small town eaten up with top 40 pop culture... where every kid thought Michael Jackson was the greatest thing ever... and a ten year old boy... jamming this. Of course... back then videos were a lot better than they are now.
That's right. In 1983 I was 10 years old... and I was rocking Krokus.
Ok... I've shared my embarassing first music purchase.
Now its your turn!
You are hearby ordered to share yours as well. Lets see a link. I wanna know... year... band... album... Lets see a youtube vid of a song off the first album you ever bought with your own money.
In the beginning, there was the plan
and then came the assumptions
and the assumptions were without form
and the plan was completely without substance
and darkness was upon the face of the workers
and they spoke amongst themselves, saying
"It is a crock of shit, and it stinketh."
And the Workers went unto their Supervisors and sayeth,
"It is a pile of dung, and none may abide the odor thereof."
And the Supervisors went unto their Managers and sayeth unto them,
"It is a container of excrement, and it is very strong, such that none may abide it."
And the Managers went unto thier Directors and sayeth,
"It is a vessel of fertilizer, and none may abide its strength."
And the Directors spoke amongst themselves, saying one to another,
"It contains that which aids plant growth, and it is very strong."
And the Directors went unto the Vice-Presidents and sayeth unto them,
"It promotes growth, and it is very powerful."
And the Vice-Presidents went unot the President
and sayeth unto him,
"This new plan will actively promote the growth and efficiency of this company, and many areas in particular."
And the President looked upon the plan, and saw that it was good,
and the plan became policy.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Have you heard this crap? Idiots claiming that the Freak hasn't had a speck of dirt in his face... he's never run on mud... blah blah blah.
Are you a sucker? That's what they're hopin'. They're grasping at straws... hoping to give someone a reason to bet. Don't fall for it.
The Best 3-Year Old to come along in years is running against a bunch of Grade III chumps. This not going to be pretty. I would break down the whole field for you... but there is really no point. 2nd and 3rd are lottery picks. Big Brown is a lock. He's faster. He's meaner. He will impose his will on this group of horses.
After he won the Derby, he was so pissed off they couldn't put the blanket of roses on him. So, instead they kept them at his stable... and handed roses out to visitors.
They'll be handing out blackeyed susans to folks at Pimlico on Monday.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Are you a US Person? Note... I didn't ask if you were a US Citizen. I didn't ask if you were a US resident. I asked if you were a US Person.
That's because the term US Person is what the IRS uses to determine if you are subject to the US tax system.
Check this out:
1. Are you an American Citizen (even though you may have a different passport)?
2. Is your official place of residence in the United States or do you have a permanent residence permit for the United States? A permanent residence permit means, for example, a green card, an extended stay in the United States this year and during the two past years, or a substantial physical presence test.
3. Are you, for any other reason, subject to American tax?Dual residence, spousal joint tax return, person who has given up US nationality or a residence permit after an extended stay, other reasons.
If you answer yes to any of those questions... you are a US Person... and are subject to the US income tax system.
Imagine... you renounce your US citizenship. You move to Switzerland... you divest yourself of all US investments. You earn no income what-so-ever from any US source. What does the IRS say? Good for you... but we're still coming for 30% of your income for the next 10 years... bitch.
The official IRS position boils down to... "If we say you're subject to our system... you are."
Lets be clear... the problem I have with this... is the idea that someone that earns no money from US sources... should be required to report their income to the IRS... simply because they happen to have lived in the US 3 years ago.
Ok that's not true... I actually have a problem with anyone being forced to report their income to a government agency. Its a loathsome and despicable practice that is incompatible with a free society.
And yes... I am still alive. I've been eyeballs deep in homeschooling for the last several days.. and that is likely to continue for the foreseeable future.
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
40 years ago, Buford Jones, a good ole boy from the Tennessee hills, was drafted into the Army.
On his first day in basic training, the Army issued Buford a comb. An hour later an Army barber shaved him bald as a baby.
On his second day, the Army issued Buford a toothbrush, toothpaste and dental floss. That same afternoon the Army dentist pulled seven of Buford’s teeth.
On the third day, an Army supply clerk handed him a jock strap.
The Army has been looking for Buford for 40 years.
Monday, May 05, 2008
Look here y'all... ya know ol' Luke? The boy could use your help. Turns out his daddy Sam may be comin' down with Prostate Cancer... Ol' Saw Bones says about 30% chance. Your prayers are officially requested for him and his family.
Updates will be provided when they are available.
That is all.
The question is... where is David?
The 19 horses living horses that ran in the Derby are now scattering all over the country. Only one of them is heading for Baltimore. The rest are heading home to heal their wounded pride.
Big Brown dominated in such a fashion... that not a single one of the Derby also ran's is going to bother running in the Preakness. Boys... this doesn't happen. Even when Barbaro dominated the Derby by 5 lengths... there were still other owners out there that thought they got a bad trip... they figured maybe with some luck they could run him down.
Not this year. They've seen enough.
I'm looking at the list of horses that are likely to race The Freak in a couple weeks. David ain't in there. This is a group of hacks... and Big Brown is gonna blow them out of the water.
So then it will be New York... where the distance... 12 furlongs will give some owners hope. Looking at the way Big Brown finished the Derby though, I can't imagine why they'd think he couldn't go that far.
War Pass is lurking... healing up and resting. He's probably the last one standing that has a chance against Big Brown... but I guess the question I would have is... why run him? Is it worth the risk? How much value does War Pass lose if Big Brown smokes him like everyone else? He's a good horse... I've seen him run when he was healthy. But he's not a Freak.
I keep using that word... let me give you a specific example of what makes Big Brown special. Go back and watch the Derby. If you have an HD television... look at his ears. They are flopping around dude. The horse is out there breezing. He's not even trying. He wants to try... but the jockey keeps saying no... then watch him make his move. The idiot announcers keep saying it takes a few strides to get going... that's not what happened at all.
At one point... the jockey showed him the whip and asked him to take the lead. He did. That was the first big move... once he passed Recapture the Glory... he actually holds him up... then he tells Big Brown to go again.. and he makes a second move.
Horses don't do that. They have 1 big move in them. This is so much horse... you can ask him to go two or three times.
I tell ya... generally around this time of year I find myself wondering... Can he do it?
Not so this year.
This year I find myself thinking... is there anyone out there that can stop him? Maybe I'm a chump... but I don't think there's another horse out there that can deal with him.
The blogs are all abuzz... The reaction is typical. One of the great irritants of Horse Racing is the way it attracts the idiots and dregs a few times a year... and of course... that means we're forced to listen to these idiots and dregs spout their completely baseless opinions.
Let me give an example... Frank Wychek is on a local radio show each morning... today Nashville was subjected to 20 minutes of Wychek wondering why they would kill a horse over a couple broken ankles. His reasoning was an intellectual tour d' force... he pointed out that we don't kill humans over a broken leg. Now Frank is acknowledging up front that he knows nothing about horses... and yet he still runs his mouth... as if it never occurred to the best veternarians in the world that they could maybe save the horse if they just took the time to put a caste on it.
No one bothered to ask Frank how exactly they were going to move the horse. What do you think PETA would've said if they'd rolled a loader out there and scooped the horse up in the bucket?
But hey its just a couple broken legs right? Just cast it. Just slap a cast on it and the horse will be fine right? That's what they do with humans right?
Rarely have I experienced such a burning desire to reach though a radio and slap someone.
Ah and to read all these blogs... you'd think no one will watch the Preakness. Indeed... the most common theme among the outraged was the swearing off of all viewing.
They're gonna watch... and they're going to love it. In fact... they loved that Eight Belles died. Her death allowed them their greatest indulgence... the emotional outburst. Mad? Please.... these people are having the time of their lives... and you can bet your butt they'll be watching the Preakness. They wouldn't dare miss it... because another horse might get hurt... which would give them yet another excuse for another indulge.
I read one idiot's claim that she didn't understand how she could possibly have such a reaction to the death of a horse she had no connection to.
She had that reaction because she wanted to have it. Emotional outbursts are her hobby.
And that's why she will be watching the Preakness and the Belmont in spite of her claims otherwise. She will be watching with baited breath... hoping against hope to witness another tragedy so she can relive all her derby fun all over again. Ya know what you'd hear if you could read their subconscious minds?
"YAY! A horse died! Now we get to cry!! OO! And we get to take turns talking about how mean and uncaring those people are for not crying with us!! OOO! HEY! I know!! Lets cry about them not crying!"
A pox on you all... wretched loathsome beings. You are unfit.
The one great thing blogs offer is access to expertise. People that know a great deal about one particular subject will blog on that subject. Unfortunately the vast majority of blogs are written by people that have no expertise in anything what-so-ever... and spend hours each day striving to drive that point home to anyone and everyone that may be unfortunate enough to stumble upon their pathetic work.
Here's an idea... the next time you decide to start of a rant with the phrase "I don't know anything about this but.." Just stop right there. Edit the "but.." out and replace it with a period.
Then shut the hell up.
Saturday, May 03, 2008
Somewhere... Spacebunny is crying... and probably Bane to... though his tears may be completely unrelated... its just a good bet that at any given moment... he's crying about something.
If you watch the video.. try to keep in mind... Barbaro died because a man wanted to market his theraputic shoes that didn't work... and everyone knew they wouldn't work.
But still... they market their shoes by saying... "This is what they used on Barbaro."
And the dumbass horse owners never seem to reply...
Hey dumbass... Barbaro died.
Yes. I'm still pissed about it. Barbaro's Derby win was the kind of thing that just strikes you dumb for a few seconds.
In fact... its the kind of thing we might just see today.
I don't know what to make of it... the word Freak has been thrown around alot... and well... when you do what no one else has done... like win the Florida Derby from gate 12... it's an accurate application.
But I was watching his trainer Rick Dutrow during the gate selection... when it was his turn.... he walked up to the board with this grin on his face... like he knew something the rest of 'em didn't. He hung the his number on Gate 20... then he paused to hear the boos. And there was that smile again...
Let me tell you what I think is gonna happen...
Those gates are gonna open and all hell is gonna break loose... but its all going to be happening inside of Big Brown. He has the speed to open it up... eat more ground on the outside... and find his way to the first turn near the front.
He'll be in the small lead group at turn 1... and that's when a lot of folks will start thinking... aww hell...
By 7/8ths a bunch of horses will be fading... and that's gonna cost someone a chance at the end. A good horse always gets stuck behind a fader... it happens every year. It won't happen to Big Brown though... because he will have made his own way around the outside while everyone else has been slowed down by the rodeo inside. He'll be up front.
We have the makings for a blow out people.
I'm not saying its going to happen... but the conditions are right. You have The Freak on the outside that wants to be a front runner... you have a big field with some good horses in unfavorable gates. This horse runs a pissed off race. He runs angry. People talk about his feet... but this horse just doesn't care. He may kill himself... but he's gonna run like hell.
Ya know what?
Adrianos may find a way to win this whole thing... The Derby Gods may look down on Dutrow and smite him for his cocksure ways and past transgressions.
Or The Freak may take a clean run around the whole pack... take the lead within a few dozen yard of the gate... stretch it out at turn 2... and blow the whole thing wide open down the back stretch... and throw an extra kick in right after turn 4... just to make a point.
Big Brown is the only horse in the field that could either be a complete non-factor... or... he could win by a dozen lengths.
I ain't no horse man... and I don't mean to pretend to be. I'm just a guy that loves watching horse racing... and I've seen a bunch this year. When it comes down to it... throw out all the other crap.. and what you have is a race. Well... I say go with the best horse in the field.
The man that's raced 'em both says Big Brown is better than Fusiachi Pegasus.
Well... there ain't another horse out there today that's in that class... unless Adriano or Big Truck have been holding a lot back.
Nah... I don't see it.
Big Brown just might dominate today. Then the real race is gonna take place at Belmont... when War Pass has finally healed up and he gets his chance against the Freak.
Hey remember that time that NFL superstar got busted at a hotel with some prostitutes that turned out to be transvestites?
Oh no wait...
That was a brazilian soccer player.
I remember hearing something about this dude getting busted.. and thinking... I'll bet they were dudes.
"The inspector said Ronaldo admitted he knew they were prostitutes when they met on Sunday night, but did not realize they were transvestites until they got to the motel.
"He admitted to everything, he wanted to have fun," Nogueira said. "But he committed no crime at all, it was immoral at best."
Prostitution was not illegal in Brazil.
The striker told police he offered to pay the transvestites anyway, but before he left one of them allegedly asked for 50,000 reals ($A32,000) to hide the story from the media."
See? He didn't know they were dudes until he got back to the hotel.
Ok... sure man... Just didn't happen to notice that adam's apple eh?
Friday, May 02, 2008
Well nothing puts wadded up blog panties in perspective like a good ol' fashioned tornado siren. All is well for now... the first round shriveled up and disappeared when they got close to the house here.... typical behavior really. Mother Nature is a pretty cowardly ol' wench when it comes right down to it.
Sadly I have no new BloggerBlaster Theme to bribe you with tonight... but I see no reason that you shouldn't still be infatuated with Alcohaulin' Ass... so I say... as always... if ain't broke... don't fix it.
Anyway... the serious drinking will commence soon enough. Feel free to take what shots you deem necessary or worthwhile.
No compound fracture... no foul... but on a semi-related note... Walter Peyton never ran for 275 yards against the Oilers... and the Oilers never let their time expire during a draft.
I'm just sayin'.
Anyway... its just Amberbock right now... so get the barbs out of your system... wants the bourbon gets poured... the gloves come up.
So I'm minding my own business... when I wander over to Vox's blog and find this:
That's the real advantage of the house-husband over the game designer. Sure, we both sit around doing nothing but play games all day, but if Dr. Who ever leaves his redneck posterior for the handsome and urbane surgeon that is clearly her due, Nate not only hits the financial jackpot but gets to keep his kids. Outstanding! Watch and learn, grasshopper, watch and learn. And don't fret about the tears shed by would-be parasites upset at finding themselves outparasat. A girlfriend of mine told me that her three best girlfriends all have husbands that stay home while their wives work and the men sit around complaining about their wives. That just seems wrong somehow.
At this point I can't help but wonder if Vox took the Lord of the Luddites deal a little personally and decided to stir up some trouble at ol' Nate's house. I'm not tryin' to be play the victim here... but no one wants to be called a chump. Read between the lines. In no uncertain terms... Vox just called my wife a chump.
Yours to Papapete.
I can't help but think the same point could've been made without the personal association. A conversation about who get the kids if you were to get a divorce isn't exactly something you want to see opened up for disection on the Web.
My wife's not a chump... and the implication that I am somehow taking advantage of her is something I hear often enough without seeing it displayed on a fairly popular blog. I am often told by women that I should never complain because I have the perfect situation. Interestingly enough these same women listen intently when stay-at-home-moms complain about how hard they work. Either way... I don't see how its anyone's damned business how we choose to organize our lives.
I don't hide the fact that I am a stay-at-home-dad. So does the simple fact that I've given that knowledge out validate the disection of it in public? I'm not saying its morally wrong... but it sure as hell isn't polite.
I mean am I really supposed to think that Vox didn't realize he was calling my wife a chump?
My wife and I have both made sacrifices. Our situation is far from perfect and its not at all one I would recommend you emulate without giving the matter significant thought and prayer. There is a reason normal is normal.
Anyway... I understand that Dr Helen's piece made folks think of me. I just don't understand why one would chose to blatantly associate it in a blog post.. without realizing that it could make for some extremely uncomfortable reading.
Anyone that knows Julie and me read that post and cringed.
So thanks Vox. We appreciate it.
Where in we learn why such topics are best left off blogs... because they invariably produce comments like this gem from Baseball Savant:
This is a question of manliness to me. I can't let a woman do the work and furthermore I can't let a bitch tell me what to do because well, doesn't that make me a bitch? I would love to spend more time with my little Savantonians, but I can't get around the example I'd be setting them by not working hard and allowing their mother to work. I understand the legal rights and all that crap, but allowing the woman to work is evicerating the scrotum of a male. And it's not that the woman isn't working, she's working raising a family. Maybe I'm naive or I got lucky with Mrs. Savant, but we've been married 9-years now and discussions like this are just completely foreign to me.
Well isn't that special. See? I'm doing an immoral thing by "allowing" my wife to work... and I'm setting a piss poor example for my kids.
Remember.. this isn't a theoretical me. He's talking about me. These aren't theoretical kids. He's talking about my kids.
Do you think for one second he'd say that in person... with my wife and I standing right in front of him? Hell no. He's a bitch. He'd play nice and then talk about what freaks we are behind our backs... but this is the web... where polite means nothing.
I sincerely hope to meet Mr Savant one day. Perhaps I'll teach him a manly lesson about the consequences of shooting his mouth off.
Thursday, May 01, 2008
Its not Friday? Piss off. It is in Australia.
A: Bourbon... Eagle Rare... Beware.
T: Cumberland Twist
F: Many. Many Many Many.
So this afternoon I'm sitting at an intersection in the middle of nowhere... hell I was 20 minutes from nowhere... and this account executive on his shiney Harley Davidson FLTISOISDNFFSLFDJ (which by the way translates to "same shitty bike with different bolt ons) pulls up beside me.
"I could tell that was rice from a mile away."
"Yeah? No shit. That's because it wasn't leakin' oil all over the road."
After my reply he just looked at me... like he couldn't believe I said it. Ya think I couldn't have a Harley if I wanted one? Any dumbass with a 600 credit score can get one of those pieces of junk and make payments on it like all the other suckers.
I have what I have because its what I want. So yeah... its rice... and ya know what? I'll bet rice dust tastes like crap. Of course i wouldn't know.
But he does.
Ya know... when I was 19.. I thought Harleys were badass. I loved them. I wouldn't dream of buying anything else.. even though I secretly loved the looks of the Suzuki Intruder... no no... if it didn't say Harley... it sucked.
Of course... I didn't actually start riding motorcycles until I was... 28? Only after I had ridden for a while did I realize... Harley sucks. They suck mechanicly. Their performance sucks. They suck in virtually every way they can suck... except marketing. They may have the best marketing in the world. I have to give them that.
So it was with great satisfaction that I told the old bastard... "anytime you're ready."
He punched it.
I twisted my right wrist... but not all the way...
and he disappeared behind me... not nearly as fast as he would've if I'd been on the CBR1000... but then again... if I had been on the Black King... he never would've tried in the first place.
My bike cost a fraction of his... and yet it blew his away. Its more reliable... it turns quicker and with less effort... its more stable at speed... oh... but it doesn't qualify for the club.
Yeah.. that's a shame. I lose sleep over that.
You can have your club. I prefer to actually ride.
If you want to know what kind of music this is... I want you to imagine the kind of music Vox listens to... then I want you to think of the music JamieR listens to... then.. after you puke... grab a tastey beverage... and crank it. Because this has NOTHING to do with any of that crap.
If that doesn't make you want to drink... then I humbly suggest some testosterone injections.
The name of the band is Hellyeah. Go buy their music. Now.
"VD->> I love reading your blog and esp. the comments.>> However, I can no longer get them to appear when I click> on the comments link.> All I get is the permalink page.> Over&over - an endless loop?>> I run a Mac with I.E. and another Mac with Safari.> It doesn't work with either.> I've been trying since you installed the new feature (tsk)>> Please advise...the comments were a beloved feature.>> Thanks>> Luddite Larry"
ok... when you fuck up your blog so badly that loyal readers are reduced to seeking the help of the ruffians and rabble like me... that's a problem.
For the record... if I ever discover that CoComment really is completely and reliably incompatible with Apple browsers... you can bet your ass I will adopt it on the spot. Nothing improves a comment community like eliminating the Elitest Macophiles.