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A man was washed up on a beach after a terrible shipwreck. Only a sheep and a sheepdog were washed up with him. After looking around, he realized that they were stranded on a deserted island.
After being there awhile, he got into the habit of taking his two animal companions to the beach every evening to watch the sunset.
One particular evening, the sky was a fiery red with beautiful cirrus clouds, the breeze was warm and gentle - a perfect night for romance. As they sat there, the sheep started looking better and better to the lonely man. Soon, he leaned over to the sheep and put his arm around it. However, the sheepdog, ever protective of the sheep, growled fiercely until the man took his arm from around the sheep.
After that, the three of them continued to enjoy the sunsets together, but there was no more cuddling.
A few weeks passed by and, lo and behold, there was another shipwreck. The only survivor was Hillary Clinton.
That evening, the man brought Hillary to the evening beach ritual. It was another beautiful evening - red sky, cirrus clouds, a warm and gentle breeze - perfect for a night of romance. Pretty soon, the man started to get 'those feelings' again.
He fought the urges as long as he could but he finally gave in and leaned over to Hillary and told her he hadn't had sex for months. Hillary batted her eyelashes and asked if there was anything she could do for him.
He said, 'Would you mind taking the dog for a walk?'
I went hardware shopping recently while not being altogether sure that course of action was a wise one. You see, the previous evening I had prepared and consumed a massive quantity of my patented "You're definitely going to shit yourself" chili. Tasty stuff, albeit hot to the point of being painful, which comes with a written guarantee from me that if you eat the next day both of your asscheeks are red and sore, and you might pass blood.
Here's the thing. I had awakened that morning, and even after two cups of coffee (and all of you know what I mean) nothing happened. No "Schultz' Movement 2". Despite habanera peppers swimming their way through my intestinal tract, I appeared to be unable to create the usual morning symphony referred to by my neighbors as thunder and lightning.
Knowing that a time of reckoning had to come, yet not sure of just when, I bravely set off for the market; a Builder's Square store that I often haunt in search of new tools.
Upon entering the store at first all seemed normal. I selected a cart and began pushing it about dropping items in for purchase. It wasn't until I was at the opposite end of the store from the restrooms that the pain hit me. Oh, don't look at me like you don't know what I'm talking about. I'm referring to that "Uh oh, gotta go" pain that always seems to hit us at the wrong time. The thing is, this pain was different.
The habaneras in the chili from the night before were staging a revolt. In a mad rush for freedom they bullied their way through the small intestines, forcing their way into the large intestines, and before I could take one step in the direction of the restrooms which would bring sweet relief, it happened. The peppers fired a warning shot.
There I stood, alone in the air conditioner filter aisle, suddenly enveloped in a noxious cloud the likes of which has never before been recorded. I was afraid to move for fear that more of this vile odor might escape me. Slowly, oh so slowly, the pressure seemed to leave the lower part of my body, and I began to move up the aisle and out of it, just as an elderly woman turned into it.
I don't know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what her reaction would be to the malodorous effluvium that refused to dissipate, as she walked into it unsuspecting. Have you ever been torn in two different directions emotionally? Here's what I mean, and I'm sure some of you at least will be able to relate.
I could've warned that poor woman but didn't. I simply watched as she walked into an invisible, and apparently indestructible, wall of odor so terrible that all she could do before gathering her senses and running, was to stand there blinking and waving her arms about her head as though trying to ward off angry bees. This, of course, made me feel terrible, but then made me laugh. Mistake.
Here's the thing. When you laugh, it's hard to keep things "clamped down", if you know what I mean. With each new guffaw an explosive issue burst forth from my nether region. Some were so loud and echoing that I was later told a few folks in other aisles had ducked, fearing that someone was robbing the store and firing off a shotgun.
Suddenly things were no longer funny. IT was coming, and I raced off through the store towards the restrooms, laying down a cloud the whole way, praying that I'd make it before the grand mal assplosion took place.
Luck was on my side. Just in the nick of time I got to the john, began the inevitable "Oh my God", floating above the toilet seat because my ass is burning SO BAD, purging. One poor fellow walked in while I was in the middle of what is the true meaning of "Shock and Awe". He made a gagging sound, and disgustedly said, "Sonofabitch!", then quickly left.
Once finished I left the restroom, reacquired my partially filled cart intending to carry on with my shopping when a store employee approached me and said, "Sir, you might want to step outside for a few minutes. It appears some prankster set off a stink bomb in the store. The manager is going to run the vent fans on high for a minute or two which ought to take care of the problem."
That of course set me off again, causing residual gases to escape me. he employee took one sniff, jumped back pulling his shirt up to cover is nose and, pointing at me in an accusing manner shouted, "IT'S YOU!", then ran off returning moments later with the manager. I was unceremoniously escorted from the premises and asked none too kindly not to return.
Home again without having shopped, I realized that there was nothing to eat but leftover chili, so I consumed two more bowls. The next day I went to shop at Lowe's. I can't say anymore about that because we are in court over the whole matter. Bastards claim they're going to have to repaint the store.
This report is for a number of sites -- so you'll have to pardon the genericness it may have for this particular site. NMCA is aka Pro to some, and Fastest Street Car to others. They have a points race series of 8 races, that you count your points from seven of the races -- and throw one out (or don't show). This race in Bowling Green is the second in the series. (click any image to see a larger version)
I'll fast forward ahead to tell you that for the third NMCA race in a row -- the person I ultimately loss to wins the event. This race, the lucky dog to draw me in the second round was Skip Koester. As you can see from our race, I screwed up and put more than a fender on ole Skip, making me 0.075 seconds too fast.
(I got the Dreaded Yellow Slip -- I'm car 7601)
I'm sure his next three rounds made it tougher on him than I had, as I know he wouldn't want every race to be as easy as this one was. Congratulations Skip. It was a tough weekend to get a handle on what your car would do with the weird weather, the late qualifying vs. early eliminations, and track conditions. You had to be on top of your game to have won that event.
So backing up and giving my perspective of the race, Dallas and I left Thursday at about 9am for the 800 mile trip. We found a rest area in KY at about midnight, and got a little sleep. The track's gates were to open at noon, so we thought we'd get there at 9:30AM and be first in line. About 100 other racers had the same idea and were quicker on the trigger -- so we were about 2 miles (seriously!) back in line. 90 minutes after they opened the gates we were shown to our pits during a torrential rain storm. No racing for Friday, but there was enough of a break to get the cars teched in.
(My only Time Trial had me going too fast)
Saturday had us sweeping water out of out pits and toward the drainage ditch for the first couple of hours, and then unloading the cars for "the wait". We got a TNT at about 11:30 AM -- and my car was too fast (above) for the class I'd penciled in on the tech card (B/FX). Then we waited and waited again for qualifying. We finally got the call at 5:30PM. When it was my turn -- I spun the tires horribly, and got out of the groove when my third gear shift broke the tires loose. I had virtually no control, was all over my lane, and just couldn't get the car back in the groove. I normally would have gotten out of it and given up -- but it looked like this was going to be our only Qualifying pass -- and I tried like hell to get the car down the track close to my class -- while keeping it off the wall. I did a pitiful 10.317 at 132MPH on my 9.50 class. My 60' sucked and I couldn't tell if the track was greasy or if my slicks were gone -- which I was banking on. (Replacing the slicks as this is being typed!)
They did give us another Qualifying pass at about 9PM. The car went straight -- and I felt I was going to break out -- so I scrubbed some speed off. However, my 60' was again horrible (more than 1/10 off) -- so I scrubbed off way too much time trying not to break out. I did a 9.856@ 126mph -- which got me 15th out of 23.
(My first Round against Camp had him -.011)
Sunday, the call for the first round came early. They called NMC at 8:55 and Dallas was running out of the coach while still dressing. Ours came at about 9:15AM. I was matched up with a C/FX Chevy, run by a pretty nice guy by the name of Camp. As I was passing the tree I saw his red bulb on -- so I decided I'd go for broke. I spun my wheels after every shift and was pretty loose -- but I'd won before my light had counted down, and a win is a win.
So that brings me to the next round with Skip. I had qualified better than him, but let him have lane choice. I would have picked the left anyway -- as all but one pass to date had been in it. I figured he must have broken out twice to qualify worse than me (as I was pretty bad), and I knew that he and Nederland had a double breakout in their first round. We sat in the staging lanes for near an hour -- I later found out so they could prep the track for us. I might have been able to use that little bit of information! So Skip and I finally line up and he leaves a second before me (he is in the 10.50 B/NSS while I'm in the 9.50 B/FX class) with a .060 light. My light counts down and I leave with a .059 light -- can't get a closer start than that. I figured that the track and my tires are so gone, plus driving the car for all she was worth last time only gave me a 9.58 -- I figure I'll just put a fender on him and there's no way I can break out. Well Skip (later told me that he) couldn't see me and was figuring he was breaking out -- so he got on the binders (explaining his 10.61) just as I was blowing by him. I got on my binders a little (I was going too fast to hit them hard -- and thought there was no way I could break out) -- but not 0.075 enough -- and I broke out.
It wouldn't be a complete trip -- if something didn't happen on the way back. We pull out of the track at about 3:30PM Sunday and get to Damon Kuhn's favorite beanery (The Flying J in West Memphis, AR) at about 9:30PM. Damon is always telling me "Dave, it doesn't get better than Steak and Eggs at the Flying J" -- so we pull in for $500 top off of diesel and a couple of plates of Steak and Eggs. When we leave, Dallas is driving so I can catch a couple of hours sleep. We figured he'd drive to Texarkana, I'd drive to Lufkin, he'd finish the last 125 miles -- and be home Monday morning at 7AM. Well at about 11:30PM I wake up to Dallas pulling over between West Memphis and Little Rock. I asked what the deal is and he says the trailer lights aren't on and he's going to check. He comes back to say the plug had been dragging for a while and was busted to shit. I go an look -- and sure enough there wasn't enough left for burial rights. So I figure I need to drive (not sure how the law feels about a minor driving a 84' rig in or out of state -- and didn't want to find out) and look for a truck stop with a 24 hour mechanic. We get to just north of the 440 loop around Little Rock and there are a Freightliner dealer and a Petro truck stop both advertising 24 hour mechanics. First the Freightliner -- where I'm told that the parts guy went home and to try the Petro. At the Petro -- I'm told I'm next. At 1:30AM I'm told to pull the rig into the bay. 2 minutes later (which I guess I could have been told two hours earlier) I am told they don't have the parts -- and I'd have to wait for the morning mechanic. So we backed in to the only space left in their picked over lot (you have to grab a spot by 9PM or you're hosed) and get a couple of hours sleep. 6AM I'm talking to the morning mechanic who is working on a Kenworth -- and told I'm next. 8:30AM he's finally ready for me. I pull in and he makes it real apparent that he really wants nothing to do with this. Anyway, he says he's got to go get wire and a RV end from the parts store, and heads out.
He's back in 30 minutes, and after helping someone start their truck is on the job again -- well sort of. He has 2' of six-strand wire instead of the seven-strand he needed. (If he'd only listened to me when I suggested him taking a chunk with him instead of looking at me like I'm some kind of idiot) So anyway he decides he has enough of my old wire to splice me back into business with the RV end -- that he did get right. Keep in mind that there are 7 wires -- only requiring 7 butt connectors. About 15 butt connectors later from a combination of not having clean twisted ends and using dykes as crimpers and not one wire is securely attached. Dallas goes into the truck stop to buy a crimping tool for him to use -- and an hour later I have this huge rat's nest with bare wire peeking out of both sides of the butt connectors. During the smoke test -- I have no reverse lights and no trailer brakes. So I say to this guy -- where can I find someone that knows what they're doing close enough for me to drive to before the coach and trailer catches fire? He tells me Liberty trailer down the road. Great -- I should have been there at 8Am. So I pay him for the parts -- and give him a $20 tip for his time and head to Liberty. Sure they can do that -- but I'll have to wait because their break is just starting. After the break, plus some -- they have me back into a bay (where I tapped a overhead florescent light and had it explode over a not so happy mechanic. They assigned an old man on it. He did a good job, but kept forgetting where he was putting stuff so it took twice as long as it should have (2 hours). This was made worse by the fact noon happened 5 minutes before the job was finished -- so I had to wait for him to come back from lunch for the 5 minutes to finish. Man I miss the days I was a Union man myself! So 14 hours late and $200 lighter -- we were on our way home, arriving at 10PM Monday night.
But wait -- its not over yet. This morning I open the trailer to get my car out and I see Dallas' car up against the wall with the right slick off the lift -- wedged between the lift and wall. We pull over and check the cars every 100 miles, just so this won't happen. So I call him at work (20 miles away) and tell him -- and he says for me to not touch it. Gotta love the respect for your abilities your kids have! 10 minutes later as I'm rolling my car off -- his dually crew cab screeches to a stop. I figure he had to do a 100 to be here that quick. He changes out of his suit and I find my yard man to help him get a floor jack under the rear end and move the car back onto the ramp. The below photo had them almost finished before I found the camera.
It turns out one of the e-tracks broke. We'll have to do something about a better arrangement. I didn't trust it from the beginning -- but the dealer says they'd sold billons without any trouble. Yeah Right! A little paint and the car will be alright. Click any photo to see a larger version.
It was disclosed yesterday that the Clintons have raked in over $100 million since leaving the White House with the fine china and bath towels. Fine. It's a free country. And the money came from idiots stupid enough to pay to listen to the pair speak and read their books. It didn't come from me or, to the best of our knowledge so far, taxpayers.
But of that $100 million-plus, the Clintons are getting fawning praise from the mainstream media for giving about 10 percent of the haul to "charity." A worthy and commendable figure.
But as with everything else Clintonian, you have to look beyond the obvious. As our friend Amanda Carpenter of TownHall.com reports this morning, the charity the Clintons gave most of that money to was...themselves!
That's right. The Clinton tax returns show that $10,256,741 was donated to CFF, the Clinton Family Foundation.
"On the 2005 forms and those from previous years, Bill Clinton was listed as CFF President, Hillary Clinton has the title of secretary/treasurer and daughter Chelsea Clinton was 'director,'" notes Carpenter. "The 2006 tax forms list Gloria Clinton as CFF CEO and Manager, Erlinda Valdez as secretary and Catherina Hillman as treasurer. Gloria Clinton was paid $252,500 according to the 2006 returns for her work that year."
Of the $10 million-plus the Clintons gave to themselves, they only parceled out about $2.5 million to other charities. Then again, $80,000 of that went to the Clinton Birthplace Foundation.
So the Clintons gave money to themselves in order to give money to themselves? These people are beyond contemptible.
I know 13 minutes is a long time to invest in researching a man that might be your next President -- but the above is a very well produced video that is both interesting and to the point.
I swear to you, that this will be 13 minutes well invested. This is a video that needs to be sent to the young people who feel that they are Worldly -- but have yet to see what Communism can do to a country. Our kids are too impressionable to know that they're being stroked, and some attempt should be made to give them the facts that their information sources will not give them.
John McCain, Hillary Clinton and Obama were walking down the street discussing Government in people's lives, taxation, and wealth redistribution when a homeless man came up to them asking for money. John McCain took out one of his business cards and scribbled directions to his office on the back. He gave the card and a $20 to the man and told him he'd give him a job stuffing envelopes.
Hillary and Obama both told McCain he was an idiot. Another block away a homeless man comes up to them and Hillary says "Let me handle this". She reaches in McCain's pocket and takes out a ten and two fives. She points the man in the direction of the Welfare office, gives him a five, and keeps $15 for "Administrative Fees.
McCain says "Typical Liberal" and Obama says "Typical Old Style Government" and they walk some more. Another block away a homeless man comes up to them and Obama say's "I'll field this one" while McCain secures what's left of his wallet. He tells the man that Fascist America's genocide of the Black man with AIDs and sending them to war, and people's clinging to God and Guns has put him where he is today -- but not to worry because change is coming -- then walks off doing nothing.
Peter Dunlap-Shohl / Anchorage Daily News (April 29, 2008)
Ole Obama threw the man under the bus who married him, Baptized his daughters, who's sermon he name a book after, and who's church he attended for 20 years. Now Jeremiah Wright was a hater, a racist, a gigalo, and anti-American -- but for 20 years that was OK with Obama. Now all of a sudden that stands in the way of his ambitions.
Obama didn't change the way he thinks -- he proved that loyalty will always take a back seat to his ambitions.
There are less than eight months until the election, an election that will decide the next President of the United States. The person elected will be the president of all Americans, not just the Democrats or the Republicans. To show our solidarity as Americans, let's all get together and show each other our support for the candidate of our choice.
It's time that we all came together, Democrats and Republicans alike.
If you support the policies and character of John McCain, please drive with your headlights on during the day.
If you support Obama or Hillary, please drive with your headlights off at night.
After long and serious thought, I have decided to endorse Senator John McCain for President.
I have always voted for the person and have not voted for anyone because some political party was telling me who I should vote for. We all know the choices by now and, that said, I do believe that the process of selecting a chief executive is deeply flawed. The words 'money' and 'special interests' come to mind, among many others. Here's the way I see it: Barack Obama, you are a fine public speaker. You are also an extremely liberal Senator from the State of Illinois , which has a long and rich history of political corruption of the first magnitude. You are indeed a child of that system.
You have finally insulted my intelligence far beyond my capacity to tolerate your insults. It has nothing at all to do with your skin color. As a matter of fact, it would be so COOL to finally have an African-American for President. What a great statement that would be to the entire world that we are indeed the greatest country on earth! But, unfortunately, General Colin Powell is not running, and YOU are NOT the man for this job!
Barack, you want me to believe that you have never heard the sermons of your own pastor, the Right Reverend 'God Damn America ' Jeremiah Wright. It is a matter of record that this has been your church for over 20 years. It is a matter of record that you were married there by this very pastor, and that your children were baptized there. The good Reverend saw fit to visit Khadafy in Libya with you and to give a lifetime achievement award to Louis Farrakhan, of all people. We have all now seen excerpts of his sermons all over the airwaves by now. And you have publicly stated that this man IS your 'spiritual mentor'.
BUT, your pastor is NOT the reason I am NOT voting for you. His words were disturbing enough, but it is your own HUGE church congregation, seen jumping, hooting and howling to his words in the background that disturb me the most. And please don't tell me you attended church there and never once heard a 'discouraging word' in the 20 years you attended there. Don't tell me, that in addition to the good reverend, that you are now not having anything to do with all those other people seen hooting and howling out in the audience in the background of his fiery tirades.
Even Oprah Winfrey got disgusted and walked out. I am no Oprah fan, because she may be starting her own radical church,but still she did the right thing.
Now YOU look me in the eye and ask me to believe that you never heard such language in all the years you attended there! This is like me telling you that I attended dozens of Klan rallies and never once heard the 'N' word. Yep. And Bill Clinton 'did not inhale'.
Yes, Mr. Obama, we all have friends who have said stupid things that embarrassed us, but NOW you have asked me to believe something that is so incredibly stupid that you are telling me that I am just stupid enough to believe you. THAT is the main reason that I will never vote for you. I am deeply sorry, that in a county teeming with enormously talented African Americans who would make a good President, that the political system has chosen YOU. You are a pathetic and plastic excuse for an American, who will not even salute the Flag during the Pledge of Allegiance, or wear a U. S. flag on his lapel. God forbid you ever get near the Oval Office.
Now, did I mention Bill Clinton?
AH YES! This brings us to MRS. WILLIAM JEFFERSON CLINTON , who this candidate really is, in spite of all the other names she may care to call herself. This 'feminist' piece of work of course would like to be referred to as MS. and we all know who wears the pant suit in that family.
MS. Clinton, it is just as depressing to realize that there are dozens of women who would also make great Presidents. But, unfortunately, the horrible state of the selection process has selected YOU. Ms. Clinton, I'm sorry, but you could not tell the truth if we water boarded you!
Still you play the role of the 'embarrassed but dignified noble wife'. What utter malarkey! I am not voting for you for a world of reasons, but the main one is the same as not my voting for Senator Obama. You persistently insult my intelligence.
The real reason I will never vote for you is that I don't think the country can survive EIGHT MORE YEARS of Whitewater, Travelgate, Filegate, Sandy Berger stuffing his socks with classified intelligence, Janet Reno's goon squad, and the myriad other corruption's that seem to stick to you. The REAL issue is that he committed perjury under oath when he lied about it and the pathetically attempted cover-up that followed. Like you, he is totally incapable of telling the truth. He could not do it if you tortured him, and in voting for you, we would get the BOTH of you, all over again. The same folks who could have taken out Osama Bin Laden over 4,000 dead Americans ago!
And please stop telling me that you have '8 years of experience' to lead us. You were the first lady already, not the Commander in Chief. The sum of your 'experience' is that of the most worrisome and incompetent meddling in the history of the White House. You even cursed your pitiful staff and the Secret Service agents who were and still are unfortunately charged with risking their lives to protect youand all at the expense of other people who have to work for a living.
Your single pathetic platform is to finance the illegal drugs, alcoholism and bad habits of the very lowest and most irresponsible freeloaders in America and to then 'garnish the wages' (your own words) of every law abiding and hard-working American to pay for it.
This disaster you refer to as 'Universal Health Care'. Where have you been the last 30 years? Did you not see that socialism is a failure wherever it has been tried? Did you not notice that the Soviet Union has collapsed since it gave no reward to those who worked the hardest for the fruits of their own labors to pay for those who will not?
It is interesting to see all the dead bodies that you and your hubby have left in your wake. Suicides, mysterious deaths, cover-ups that make Richard Nixon look like a rank amateur. The utter contempt and unbelievable arrogance of some of your strongest supporters, most notably the recently resigned and disgraced Governor Eliot Spitzer, the epitome of hypocritical and malevolent arrogance gone wild, one of your most ardent, wealthy and powerful political supporters. A man the news media refuses to admit IS a 'super delegate' in your own political machine, a fine example of your own 'adopted' state of New York . No wonder you moved there to run for Senator! The environment there is perfect for the likes of you!
Yes, I would vote for a woman, but I will NOT vote for YOU!
Which leaves us with Senator John McCain.
John, you are a flawed man. You are a bit old, a bit loony, and you have a notoriously bad temper. This perfectly qualifies you, in my humble opinion, to lead us for the next eight years. I WANT your trembling hand on the nuclear button.
Think about it.
We have Kim Jong IL, Chavez, and Ahmadenijad all running around like lunatics, threatening America and threatening to plunge the world into nuclear Armageddon. We have Putin and the Chinese blustering and rattling their sabers at us. I want John McCain in the Oval Office and I want him to be really annoyedat all these other nut jobs around the planet.
John, once you are elected, I want you to go into the Oval Office and throw one of your perfect FITS. Jump up and down and throw something through a plate glass window. Rip the drapes down and foam at the mouth a bit. And I want the whole thing on camera so that Ahmadinejad can see it. I want ALL of these 'world leaders' to lay awake at night and to break out in a cold sweat every time they think of messing with the United States of America .
I want the nuclear button sitting right next to the alarm clock on your night stand. I want pictures of this to be sent to Iran, Russia, China, Venezuela, Cuba, Libya, Syria, Pakistan, and those othershiding underin the sheets, the Saudis.
On the domestic front, poor John did try and reach across the aisle to the opposition in a desperate effort to compromise and to get the Congress to do something. You may not agree with his efforts, but at least he TRIED. For all his efforts, all he got handed to him was his head in a basket. The liberals are angryat him and the conservatives are angry at him. Just my kinda guy.
I predict that John will select Senator Joe Lieberman as his running mate. Good choice. I want a Jew whose memory of the Holocaust is still fresh in his mind and who is royally pissed off at all of these towel-headed morons in the Middle East to be the next in line if something should happen to John. Shalom, Vice President Joe. One heartbeat from the Oval Office.
Finally. John McCain knows on a most personal level what it is to suffer horrible torture for years and to see others die, right in front of you, for their love of America . When you ask him about it, he will tell you that what he did was 'nothing special'. Even more incredibly, he states that ANY American who truly loves his country would do exactly the same as he did in that situation. You and I will have a hard time believing that, but the real point is that John McCain believes that about the 'average American', and that, dear friends and neighbors, is why I will cast my one poor ballot for on election day for John McCain.
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