Yeah, right -- but mission accomplished all the same. The efforts of the students to voice their "righteous outrage" - either at our country or Iran depending on the issue - were in vain thanks to the selective editing which is sure to take place in the Arab countries before they air the footage.

So everyone involved, save for the lone, well-dressed pipsqueak, has come away looking like a fool. It doesn't matter that he took 20 minutes to NOT answer even a single question. It doesn't matter that "we" opened a rather prestigious university to a world tyrant - except that the pipsqueak in question walked away with that institution's credibility.

We are collectively a group of fools, willingly handing out the tools of our own defeat to our enemies. And if I sound like an over-inflated gasbag dealing in hyperbole, that may be; but it doesn't negate the facts.

Facts our colleges have taught our children to overlook because they're too inconvenient...

And speaking of brain-dead morons "college students," there's always this little group of "brave individuals" - the last line between us and the Great Looming Brother that Bushitler is about to release for the GOP's Annual Fundraising/Cookout/Civil-Rights-Stomp-A-Thon. Yeesh. What a pretentious bunch of twerps.

I know, I know; don't call names but Puh-Leeze! Mommy make the bad people stop!! This is probably the lamest notion ever and it suffers from two major misunderstandings that are prevalent on the left. First, it's fueled by the idea that Dirty Words = All Grown Up. Students! Just because you can use language that Mommy wouldn't let you use at home doesn't mean you're an adult. Quite the contrary, language like that proves that you're unable to formulate a coherent argument (or that you're on the golf course).

The other tool the left employs that we see at work here is the notion that vulgarity equals bravery. This might have been true when there were strictly enforced speech codes and a possibility that one might be imprisoned for not sufficiently rolling one's "R's" - but come on. Don't you think this is just a little... immature in this day and age?

(Please note that I graciously left out the reference to the "tasering" and the seeming connection they made to President Bush. I'd already nailed that, so anything more would have been gloating.)

THOSE WHO ARE CONDEMNED TO REPEAT IT...

So it's to be a strike, then is it? Well, I guess you gotta do what your union rep tells you to do if you want to keep your knees bending in the proper fashion, but you might want to think it over, is all I'm saying.

This is NOT a good development. Not for GM, not for the industry in general, not for the country and NOT EVEN FOR THE UNION! Don't worry - I'm not about to pull out the charts and graphs and bore everyone to tears with a long treatise on micro-economics with consideration of historical trends in overseas trade and foreign investment in American infrastructure. (I'm about to go to bed, actually.) I'm just thinking that - even though the overall economy is pretty good - the auto industry is hurting and about to undergo some major upheaval IMHO.

And in the light of this you guys want to strike? Ummm, does anyone besides me remember Eastern Airlines?

Yeah - I didn't think that would work, either...

(NOTE: I really hate it when I feel the need to explain my titles. In a perfect world you all would have enough shared experience with me so that I should never have to do such a thing. On the other hand, if we shared much more experience you probably would have no need of this website. Not that any of the staff here thinks that anyone - ANYwhere - would actually have need of this website. And not that we have staff, for that matter...)

That "line" was taken from the movie, About Last Night (he said while testing out Amazon's new widget), (Hmmm, nothing. I'll have to look into that someday in 2027...) and was designed to invoke the movie's title, rather than Jim Belushi's lecherous character. That is, the character he played in the movie, as I have no proof of him personally acting in an other-than-upright fashion. But THAT'S probably due to the fact that I couldn't care less how he lives his personal life.

Which is neither here nor there. The point is that I'm trying to explain what happened here last Friday. Thus the "about last..." reference. And it's about time I got to the point, frankly.

At any rate, for reasons that are easily explained - I'm a complete dumbarse - I try to maintain this page on the website in 2 separate files; one that's 'current' and one that acts as the archive for that month. Now, we've already experienced the shortcomings of this system in my random deletion of the 'archive' file from time to time. And that would explain the necessity of the third file I've gotten into the habit of using.

But of course it wouldn't explain my seemingly complete inability to make things go smoothly and to have all 3 of these files play nicely with each other in the sandbox. To make matters worse, I've inadvertently revealed that I sometimes write notes and lines and endings to myself that I sometimes forget to comment out.

And to make matters worse than worst, I've corrected the file and it's contents are now "complete" and contained below.

I'm more sorry for that than you can possibly imagine. You were probably better off for having NOT read it...

A LONG WEEKEND...

Auugh. We're all filled to - and in some cases well past - the gills with the grippe up here. Care to guess which 2 individuals are worst struck and which 3 others are running on nearly full batteries?

Yes, that's right; same as always. Only this time there's a strange sort of power struggle going on whereby Mommy and I are each competing to be the sickest of the sick, but also fighting to maintain order within the household. It's a strange circumstance that's not quite so hostile as I've just made it sound (as usual), but exists on a certain level all the same.

It is because of the illness that Friday is largely a blur to me. I know I got up at some point and I'm pretty sure that I went back to sleep sooner or later; I'm just fuzzy on the details. Actually, Friday was boy's bath night and we all went into the water in grand humor. I later went to sleep in my chair with The Binkster on my lap - something I never, EVER, do.

Until Saturday night when I fell asleep with D-Man in my lap. OK, so that's twice in a row but only one each if you count it that way. The difference is that I remember large chunks of Saturday.

Mommy got up early and left with the kids. This was a mysterious move but in order to pretend like I had a clue as to what was going on, I played along. Left alone in the house I did the only thing that came naturally to a person suffering from a sinus/lung difficulty: I went about coating cabinets in polyurethane.

The brilliance of this move was evident from its earliest moments but I'm nothing if not persistent so I carried on as if life were normal and bluebirds danced around my head seeing to most of my chores.

One of side effects I endured on Sunday was the feeling that I had a half-digested bluebird sitting just under the bottom of my ribcage. And I STILL had to see to my own chores, so nothing worked out for the better, as far as I can tell.

And it's not over yet. I have to go to class tonight. That's right - ME - in a class, tonight. Man, I thought all that krep was so far behind me that I'd never have to think about it again, but it just goes to show you how wrong I can be when I really want to be. The thing is, this is probably another sterling waste of my time because it's a class designed for county parents who plan to finalize their adoptions by the end of the year.

It is to chuckle.

But nobody will be laughing next year at this time when we have to take the classes again. I swear - The Binkster will be driving us to finalization and the judge will deem it "wonderful..."

Most of you already know that I'm a firm believer in the concept of doing something - from time to time - if only to remind yourself why you no longer do such a thing. Now I'm not talking about getting wasted on tequilla or wizzing into a public fountain, (you know who you are), but am instead talking about certain routines or customs that should otherwise come naturally.

It was in that spirit that I - once again - visited a shopping mall's food court. (And how curious that it's description has come to that. Just 2 decades ago, when someone said, "I'm going to the mall" everyone knew not only what you meant but where you meant. Now-a-days, much more informtion is required before such a decision is reached.)

Anywhooooo, there's a portion of my week that allows me to wander a bit further off the tether and if I'm so inclined I can treat myself to the world's best chicken sandwich. I generally go once or twice a month during that window - wouldn't want to make it a regular thing. ESPECIALLY so when I decide to go to the mall rather than just visit the stand alone and do the drive-thru thing.

Yes - I know I sound like an old geezer when I rant on such things. Yes, I realize that when Pliny The Elder was commenting on the natures and habits of his son's friends it was already an old schtick. I get all that, I really do. And if you think I'm going to be stopped by it you're crazy...

Every time I end up - or put myself - in the proximity of teenagers these days I realize the importance of me saving for my own retirement. Because these guys don't seem able of generating a revenue stream sufficient for me to tap into for my own needs - such as the Social Security system is set up currently. Of course there are exceptions and I'm sure your child/nephew/brother/friend of the family/juvenile delinquent is one of them <⁄EyesRolling>.

And honestly - I recognize that I'm probably the world's very last person who should be chiding others on the lack of a work ethic; after all, mine could fit easily into a gnat's belly button and not disturb the lint in the slightest. Still, knowing your weakness is at least half of the battle, right? So knowing where I'm in need of some improvement will help me not only jump to certain judgments about the next generation, but will help me instruct my own children as they grow and learn.

So I guess like most things it's a mixed bag at best; if we're able to do things correctly our children should stand out as shining examples of young citizenry. Then again, in comparison to the current crop that doesn't really seem like all that lofty a goal.

Of course, if the kids follow their natural inclinations instead of adhering strictly to our training, D-Man will make a living on a pogo stick, (somehow), "M" will be either a doctor or a serial killer (Why not both?) and The Binkster, well, lock up your women and hide your liquor. So I guess we've still got plenty of work ahead of us...

J.O.T.W...

It was rumored that a particular Indian had a fantastic memory. Hundreds of people asked the Indian questions which he was always able to answer. A skeptical young man set out to find this Indian. When he did, he thought he'd set a trap. After standing in a long line of people asking questions it was finally the young man's turn. He asked the Indian what he had had for breakfast 10 years ago. The Indian replied: "eggs." The young man went off not entirely satisfied because there was no evidence to prove that the answer was correct.

As it happened, ten years later the young man comes across the Indian again. Very pleased to see him the young man approaches the Indian and greets him with a traditional "How".

The Indian looks up at him, pauses for a moment and then replies: "Scrambled."

I think I've done the Idiot's Guide to the History of The Blog before so I won't bother with THAT again. I'll just say that I'm feeling rather blog-gier than usual at the moment, so we're going to chase that rabbit. At least until I get it out of my system...

I noticed a headline on Drudge the other day that Iran's crazed "president" - ahmadineWhackJob - was going to be visiting New York and I thought, "well, I certainly hope no harm befalls him in Central Park." No, not really (you knew that), but the thought of a piano falling from sky and squishing him into a well-dressed stain on the sidewalk did cross my mind.

Of course, Drudge groups related stories on his site so the next headline caught my eye, too: Protests planned. My first thought was that maybe - just maybe - there's hope for New York and the country at large if that Persian pipsqueak's presence is enough to cause protests against him. And then it hit me; what if the story was about some brain dead, pacifist, college students who were planning a "don't bomb Iran" type anti-American protests.

I didn't even read the story because I didn't want to take the chance it could be the latter. These are interesting times in which we find ourselves...

I'm sure you've heard about the poor helpless college student who was 'tased' at an open forum recently. All he did was stand up and ask a question and BANG! Chimpy McBushitler personally sent in his brown shirts to stifle dissent! It's proof that we're becoming a fascist state! Wake up, Sheeple!

Or, maybe not. Maybe it's just an example of a blow-hard showoff looking for every opportunity to spout nonsense in an attempt to gain fame. And given what fame has done to brittney and paris and all the rest of them, I almost wish him well in his quest. But then we'd have to put up with him for even longer and nobody wants that - except him. So, NO FAME FOR YOU!

The other students reacted pretty much as you'd expect and have been like, keeping it real by taking it to the street and talking truth to power, you know, man? Well, in further proof that the world is made up of better people than me - and how lucky you are that that's the case - the protesters will be watched, kept in check and if necessary, tased by campus security agents. But if I were a campus cop there, after seeing how badly the college president treated my fellow brothers and sisters in uniform I would not only direct the crowd to the president's office -- I would pass out bic lighters along the way.

I'm just sayin' is all.

There are certain people who are not only willing to prove their own stupidity but are also blatantly evil. I think this guy qualifies. If you can stomach the article you may come away with the same impression I did; this doesn't sound like the first time he's done this sort of thing. I don't think he's going to have a good time of it in prison and I think that's just fine. On the other hand, I guess it's too bad he didn't know this kid. I guess.

From the Please Let This Be True file comes this little doozy. Now, why would I care about this? Because as this goes forward I believe that further attention on those shabbily-crafted "memos" will out them as absolute fakes. This should also help to reveal the obvious bias that's rampant within the LSM. Hopefully it'll be just one more step towards the long overdue overhaul that is so desperately needed in that industry.

OK - I gotta run: the Optimism Surplus Alarm just went off and I'm worried that it'll wake the children...

WE NOW RESUME NORMAL OPERATIONS...

I've got a quick update in the Stone's Unintentional Suicide Watch. What?!? You didn't even know such a category existed? Well then. I guess I've been remiss in my blogging duties. But that shouldn't surprise anyone out there...

I meant to write about - and may have but if so it's slipped through the memory hole - the first time I realized that I had nearly driven over myself with my own truck. I mean, talk about an embarrassing way to go!

Well, if it happening once wasn't enough to make me write about it, surely a second (or third) time would do the trick, right? But only if one were pre-disposed to accepting the idea that friends and family and complete strangers would think you a complete idiot.

So, I thought, "Why not?" I had just pulled up to our mailbox - this was pre-kids so my backseat was not only empty, it was folded flat and held my golf clubs - when I stopped to get the mail. I lowered the windows and upped the volume on the radio (you'd be surprised at the content) before I stepped out and walked across the front of my truck to empty the mailbox. I went back to my cab the same way I'd come and went to drive up my driveway when my hand missed the shift lever.

Because it wasn't all the way to the top ("P") as it should have been. It was centered on "D" and it's nothing short of a miracle that a gust of wind or an angry grasshopper didn't hit the back window of my cab, forcing my own - unmanned - truck to drive over me.

That was bad enough. But just the other day I had backed up my driveway, (those of you "in the know" will remember that my driveway only nears a state of flatness at the very bottom and that it doesn't last very long), and set about my usual tasks of unloading the mail, my work-related detritus and other stuff when I stepped out of the cab.

Only to have my truck run down the driveway because - as I realized and as my mind raced around a cause and more importantly a solution, I suddenly understood that when you leave a vehicle in "R" on a slope, it only matters so long as the engine continues to run. Once you kill the engine the torque on the flywheel flees to parts unknown and gravity is once again king.

So here I am - or rather was - chasing my truck down my driveway and trying to outrun it with the sole goal of jumping into the cockpit and stepping on the break. Since my first goal was to step on the break, my first idea was to stick in a foot and hit the pedal. That quickly proved impractical.

See, I'm roughly 3 foot 7 inches tall, which means that if I tried to stick a single foot into my cab I would lose that leg and then be thrown under the wheels. Which would mean my truck would crash off the edges of my property. And THAT would be an unacceptable loss.

Instead, I shuffled my fat arse down roughly 12 feet as I fought to get into the truck. Once there, I stood on the break and reached for my keys. I then backed up to my usual parking space and DERN SURE CHECKED I WAS IN 'PARK' before turning everything off.

Once that was done, everything was OK. For unknown reasons, I've now included that last step into my 'post-flight' routine. So this should be the last update you get in this category. Stay tuned to prove me wrong.

Wif @ Work: Yeah, this should be a 'Wif Almanac' but it's late and I'm too tired/lazy to write all that code. So here it is, real quick:

The other day, while traveling along with 3 sickly kids and 2 nearly-(about-to-be) sickly adults in tow, The Wif turned back and surveyed the children. Her first assessment was of D-Man because that's the first child she encounters in her scan of my backseat.

Her analysis? "He looks like he has a fever."

Now, am I allowed to call... "nonsense" at any point here? She's not only mixing metaphors at this point, she's also mixing tenses and senses and probably cookies. What she said makes sense at a certain level, but ONLY to that level.

My response? I asked, "...well, what of The Binkster? Does he smell like he's learned some new words?"

...

Don't get me wrong; I'm grateful for I'll graciously call my "quick wit." Still, I wish it didn't come with quite so many bruises...

Hey - many apologies for yesterday; things got hot and late and the bed became suddenly crowded and overheated and... Wait a minute. This isn't coming out right. Let me begin anew...

I'm sorry there was no post here yesterday. I try - honestly I do! - to produce something for every day (M-F, Holidays may be excluded, void in areas of Tennessee and Utah) but sometimes things just get beyond my control. Such as, for example, when my youngest son registers a temperature of 104.9°. That's the kind of thing that tends to sap my attention from other pursuits. Like blogging, doing the dishes and little things like eating and breathing.

The GREAT news is that after locating another thermometer he read at a mere 102.2°. While this might still sound like an impressive number, after seeing the near-fatal 105 it's the difference between hearing that your house is engulfed in flames and learning that your wife lit a candle in the living room. Sure it's only a difference in degree, but those degrees make a huge difference.

The other GREAT news is that he's on the mend; 4 doses of amoxicillin and case after case of Tylenol and ibuprophen later - as well as a few extra hours of sleep here and there - and he's MUCH more like his old self. Actually, he's rather a bit like a "2.0" version of himself. But more of that on my more public blog later tonight. If I can get there...

The Good news is that I suspect many of you visited that site, read the latest post and came to your own conclusion as to why there was nothing here yesterday. The Bad news is that I've allowed my audience to grow used to the idea that there'll be nothing here, and that's fine and dandy. (Well - maybe not dandy.)

There's just something about crafting your own demise that should make one stand up and protest, but maybe that's just me.

The WORST news is that so many of you who read both sites don't seem to understand that you can actually leave comments and a rating on the other site. Because you CAN! And you should feel free to do so! It's a free country, right?!?

I'm just saying, is all...

Oh - and thanks. As always.

YOU CAN TAKE THE BOY OUT OF THE COUNTRY BUT YOU CAN'T TAKE THE MORON OUT OF THE BOY...

I think I've avoided talking about the latest lame-brained - but well coiffed - "idea" from the South's Most Notable Hypocrite, john edwards, but don't think for a second that I haven't given it plenty of thought; the obvious things stood out early and made it an easy over-the-fence homerun, which is probably why I didn't bother to mention it. In general, I prefer a challenge. You know - something that's difficult to grasp or explain - and then I run out of time and have to give it short shrift. That sort of thing...

So, a couple of weeks back when johnny boy announced that HIS universal health behemoth would include a provision that mandated its beneficiaries - that's you and me and everyone we know in this country - go to the doctor at regular intervals for so-called, "preventative care," I let it slide. After all, there's just SO much wrong in there that once you dive into it you're not likely to emerge with a friendly smell about you.

But then the boy went and made things even worse. Namely, he made some remark that, once he was President (actually, I think he's President each and every night; but he has to wake up sometime) he'd submit his health care disaster to congress and if they didn't approve his plan to "cover" all Americans, he'd take away congress' health care coverage.

In politics, this is known as a "rhetorical device." In the blog-O-sphere, this is known as "great material..."

Let's go back to the original statement in this meme. Namely, his fascist dictate that, "YOO VILL GO TO DE DOKTOR VEN VEE TELL YOU TOOOOO!!!" Seriously; just becuase early detection/treatment of some conditions means a better recovery rate, is that reason enough for the STATE to DICTATE when you will go to see your doctor? More importantly, the men of this country - most of us, anyway - have been doing the health care system a great service by only checking in with our doc's once every decade or so, (more frequently if we have a limb removed from our body, but only if we're unable to find it). Can you imagine what the waiting rooms of America would look like if suddenly we were all mandated to appear in the doc's office?

I mean, can you imagine how many viagra-branded clocks would suddenly roll off Chinese assembly lines? And is it even possible that this country could withstand that influx of lead paint?

Aside from that, once one remembers that the Idiot In Question is a democrat, a whole new problem leaps to the fore. Mainly, all it would take is one guy claiming to be a 'victim' of the system because he was too busy working his dirt farm to support his family of 7 chittlins to see the doctor - and the system would see an "emergency overhaul."

And in case you're wondering, "emergency overhaul" is spelled, "Y-O-U-R W-A-L-L-E-T"

Of this latest stupidity one can only stand in wonder of what he claimed: 'as President, I'll cut off congress' health care.' Uh, john boy? Just so we're clear? The President is NOT the king and you can't make it so. And just so we're clear? Congress is a separate and co-equal branch of gubermint; that is, co-equal with the Executive branch - with variations depending on the strength of the President. Meaning that if you were ever President, (God forbid a thousand times!), there would be 536 people running the country with equal power -- unless a vote was taken to allow the Boy With The Best Hair to run things for two hours late on a Saturday night after everyone else had already gone to sleep.

He'd cut congress' health care? He may as well claim to be able to cure hurricanes with a wave of his big toe. Or find a cure for cancer by removing his cufflinks; it makes just as much sense.

Let's hope and pray that he's not REALLY that stupid. But the fact remains that he thinks YOU. ARE. that stupid. It's almost too sad for words...

HEY! HEY! - It's Monday and we should all probably either duct-tape our window seams or bend over and kiss our butts goodbye. Then again, I've been busy and can only base my response upon emails from well-meaning family and friends - read just before shutting the whole operation down sometime before midnight in order to give management the same opportunity at the pillow that the rest of the house gets.

Of course, it's not to be anytime soon. In fact, I've come to realize that as the 'young bucks' of the family mock the more distinguished among the herd, they are only following a long and well-established pattern and it isn't all that long before they find themselves asleep in a chair in the middle of the day - unwilling to be awakened even by the presence of a todfant crawling across their bodies.

And this weekend made me long for that day, frankly...

While it was true that - thanks to the ever-generous and ever-loving efforts of The Wif I was able to enjoy a large portion of Saturday's morning in bed - there was still a large amount of effort expected to be expended from me. Time and timing may be one thing, but Hell Hath No Fury Like A Woman Trying To Sell An Unfinished Kitchen.

So as I awoke, I sorted out the various doors on my floors - tops from bottoms and by size (please hold your comments until the very end), and started on my way. Upstairs, that is; and with various pieces of lumber in tow.

I stained the doors to match the nearly-completed hickory boxes on the wall. They were all Oak, except 3 of the doors and all of the cabinets. But aside from that, they were all oak. And the others ended up that way.

Late on Saturday and just in time for dinner, The Wif returned from Wally World with another container of oak stain and a quart of polyurethane. And I immediately prayed that I would have to use neither of them anytime soon.

So I'm shopping for a brush to use with polyurethane when it hits me: I could just as well hire someone to do the job for me, or someone to be on-call and go and get the things I need in order to do the job myself and I'd probably break even either way. Except that I'd never be in a Wal-Mart with my family on a Sunday after Church otherwise.

Besides, they've got a bunch of really, really cool Halloween stuff out right now and the reactions are priceless: "M" views and watches and asks for a repeat if only to fill the space, (as TV would); D-Man seems to want a repeat in order to report the details correctly, and with sufficient dramatic flair. (Making him my eventual replacement here.) The Binkster looks and laughs and puts my finger in a death-grip as he asks for a repeat.

I'll do it again, secure in the knowledge that we'll have lunch at that Scottish Place in the same parking lot, ("McDouggal's") before heading home. I fully expect the kids to fall asleep along the way and I'll carry them up the stairs and into bed willingly. I'll have to take another pre-meth for my nose, but I'll afford myself a half-hour to watch the Broncos' game, (right up until the lightning delay, as it turns out).

And then, as the rest of the house sleeps - and I'd like to do nothing more - I'll coat the cabinets as the doors continue to dry downstairs. They're next - and just after all 3 coats of protection are applied to the boxes, they'll get theirs.

And then maybe this place will sell. But we'll have to see, of course...

I can't go any further without first thanking those of you who responded to my post from earlier in this week. No, not yesterday's Open Thread Thread - because I honestly didn't expect to see any new, familiar voices among all those open threads on the foreign blog (I'm SO ashamed of all of you!) - even though I've given many of you web-worthy monikers.

No, I'm talking about the earlier post when I expressed some bit of exasperation at my life's circumstances, (a.k.a., the "whiny post"). And even though I think I've thanked each of you personally, I'd like to say - yet AGAIN - that if I've neglected your response, I'm very, very sorry. And that I'll respond personally as soon as I wade through all my v!@gra-related spam - as well as those messages imploring me to upgrade to "f!st-grad3 softwar3" just as soon as my credit score is as high as some people would like it to be, (and I'm sure their willing assistance in this area is completely altruistic).

All that aside, I'd like to personally "hug" each and every one of you who responded to my call. I pray I get the opportunity, frankly. The support has been overwhelming and I've been completely impressed by what I've heard from those responses.

Thank you one and all...

The (somewhat) curious thing about this deal is that of all the support I've received, only one (to this point) has been devoid of a Biblical reference or even a single mention of the God of Abraham. The emails have overwhelmingly referenced a God with a purpose, a plan and a SPECIFIC way of getting things done when all else seems lost.

It's something I'm forever grateful for. Now and for always..

I was going to let this pass. After all, being mentioned in passing on a second-tier Minnesota blog - even if by name - isn't exactly the thing that fuels marquees. Then again, for a fourth-tier "blogger" from Colorado to be noticed in such a way is still quite a step up. So I'll go with it.

The lead blogger from one of my three MUST-READ DAILY blogs is on vacation. On his way out the door, he opened up something like a dozen "open threads" on his site. Which of course led to...

Well, wait: just so we're all clear on what a "thread" is - much less an "open" one is - I'll take a moment to explain...

Have you ever been in an email exchange - whether it be with just one other person or a whole group of people - that just went on and on and on? That's no longer just an email, as an email is singular; "I sent an email to Bob today." No, an email which is bandied about more often than a shuttlecock on Labor Day, (this is obviously an outdated reference and an updated one would probably include the name of a young, female "celebrity"), is called a "thread."

An easy way to think of this is that if you've ever been so deeply involved in an all-day email exchange that you suddenly find yourself in a, "no - YOU hang up first" kind of loop, THAT'S a thread, my friend.

But that's just for email - the earliest form of the Interwebs. As the web evolved and eventually we reached the point where we didn't have to endure 20 minutes of downloading a Pontiac commercial before continuing along CompuServe's network, blogs started to emerge. A mere decade or so later.

It would take several more years before the web became interactive - meaning that this site is still truly behind the times - but eventually the people who posted comments on the web were able to allow comments to be posted on their sites. And as these comment areas grew and increased and sometimes took on a life of their own, they also took on a name of their own, (kinda); threads.

Here endeth the lesson...

Now that we know what a "thread" is, it should be no problem grasping the meaning of what an "open" one is. Or so you'd think. You see, once the idea of threads was well established it didn't take long for someone to create the idea of an "open thread" - that is (in theory), throwing out an idea and allowing everyone in the world to post their own opinion relative to that idea. An example would be, "abortions for some, miniature American flags for others!" And then all the readers and netcrawlers (a topic for another night), would start throwing hammers at each other, where the first group to call the others a "bunch of Hitlers!" would lose.

So you can see where that model quickly breaks down: namely that not everyone is so nimble as regards quotes from The Simpsons as I am.

But thus was re-born the idea of the "open thread." The new model holds that one blogger would open up his/her (yeah, right), site to a friend/blogger from another site to rant and rave as the invitee sees fit. And "fit" is usually the right word. Thus was born the, "open thread for [insert name here] exclusively."

In looking back, I probably could have saved a bunch of your time by just saying, "it's a cross-over episode" but that would have let me get to bed much earlier and probably left you looking for The Great Gazoo somewhere on this site. (And BTW, how many of you have noticed my new "neo-widget" above the calendar? Just asking is all...)

So as LearnedFoot leaves town, this web pioneer opens his site to friends and Leprechauns alike. I'm somewhat proud to say that I've been mentioned by name on one of said threads, and I'm more than willing to point you in that direction provided you and I come to an agreement first: you have to remember that my self-imposed language and content restrictions apply only to this site. Right?

Even so, I feel confident in saying that if you survived the clinton impeachment chatter, you will have no problem - aside from a slight blush - in reading what I've "contributed" there. Anything you read which doesn't carry my moniker, tone and style could very well be a fake.

But that only assumes that someone there would even KNOW who I am. What are those odds?

Catch up with me at LearnedFoot's site:
Kool Aid Report - KAR for short and feel free to throw in your two cents.

The dems continue to amaze me - and that's not very easy to do anymore. You hear them say some of the dumbest, most ignorant and mean-spirited things and you think, 'well, that's about as low as they can get.'

Well, this week saw them break out the shovels. And they're not afraid to use them...

This wasn't exactly a sucker-punch, though. These guys telegraphed this stuff better than Western Union ever could have. What with harry reid prouncing that "the war is lost" after like, 3 hours into the "surge," the third ranking democrat in congress saying that a report of good news from Iraq, "would be bad news for [the democrats]" and L'il chuckie's slander of our troops you could pretty well bet the farm that these paleo-lefties weren't going to sit back and smile nicely at General Petraeus while he delivered his report. But they've overdone their role of "loyal opposition." Grossly overdone.

For example, loretta sanchez - a dim bulb from southern California - called the General a liar. (Of course, she didn't have the guts to say it to his face so she issued a thinly-veiled reference to it during someone else's testimony. Typical.) I've heard it reported, but have yet to confirm it for myself, that Slow-joe biden asked that the General and Ambassador keep their answers to a minimum so as to allow the senators more time for their own speeches "questions." Knowing Slow-joe, that sounds about right.

The worst, most foul smelling slime - reliably - came courtesy of moveon.org. This group of far left nutballs had the gall to take out a full page ad in the new york crimes and in the greatest example of projection we've ever been treated to they dubbed Gen. Petraeus, "General betray-us." That's right; after screaming nonsensically for years that "you're questioning our patriotism," they turn around and call the leader of our forces in Iraq a traitor.

Boy - talk about a class outfit...

But here it gets interesting: after it was already well known that this despicable ad was in the public sphere, Republican leader Mitch McConnell went to the floor of the senate and proposed that a public vote be held as to whether the senators support or reject said ad. It's an interesting idea even if it's not completely germane to the General's report.

After McConnell had his say the dems sent up dick, "our troops are as bad as the Nazi's" durbin to respond. He said exactly what you'd expect: 'they didn't say that but we fully support their First Amendment right to say it. Let's have lunch.' Or something very nearly like that.

In case you were wondering, this proves - in addition to the fact that exactly NONE of the dem Presidential candidates has deigned to cluck at the ad - that not only is the dem party in the pocket of the moveon crazies, they're scared to death of them. That is, they're scared of losing their support. This is VERY good news for the Republicans, but I hold out little hope that the leadership is smart enough to recognize it, bold enough to act on it or loud enough to mention it.

It's sad, really; the Republicans have the right vision for the GWOT (most of them, anyway), but lack the will or the skill to implement the items necessary to get things going. The dems are floundering and without a real plan for Iraq because their strategy changes with every new poll. This means that the loud, well-paid crazies from moveon get to dictate much of the agenda to whomever will listen.

And no matter how incompetent my party can be at times, they're at least intelligent enough to ignore these whack-jobs. Let hillary march to the rhythm of their psychotic drummer with the tin foil hat; we'll see how far that gets her.

"ADOPTING" A NEW ATTITUDE...

Well... krep. Things are kinda going downhill around here - mainly in the sense that there's been absolutely no forward momentum. Oh - and then there was that little shot that actually WAS a step (or 3) backwards in our adoption efforts. It's enough to wear a man down, and it's starting to do just that, frankly.

Our house? Well, not only have we not received a single offer but now showings have slowed to a snail's pace. The latest feedback from the latest visitors was simply: it needs a lot of work for the price.

Well, it's a free country and everyone's entitled to be wrong there, Skippy. Actually, that's not all too far wrong. There is a lot of work to be done and I know it intimately because you can guess who holds the list of things to be done. And who's going to be the one to do them.

Good news on that front, BTW: I went to Bud's (I don't know how to type with the accent we use when we speak that name around here so that'll have to do) on Monday and picked up something like 27 cabinet doors for $440. And when I say that's the good news, I actually mean it.

But every silver lining seems to come complete with a dozen storm clouds (BUT WAIT! Act now and we'll double that!!) and the fact that there are 3 respectable stacks of oak doors in my basement only means that they will have to be worked and moved into their permanent positions. I think I have 7 spare minutes next Tuesday to devote to the project, so that'll all work out.

Up next on the list is the fact that it seems we won't finalize the adoptions within 2007. I mention this only because if I say it outloud maybe the forces that be will set about making me out to be a liar. As usually happens.

The problem is that there isn't a Father listed on The Binkster's birth certificate - for reasons I won't go into here. And while legal rights have been terminated for the bio-parents, this absence means that we need the further protection of a court termination on a John Doe before we can be freed of the county tentacles. We expected to finalize in November. It doesn't look possible at this point.

I think it was sometime around this time of year last year that I said I wouldn't be surprised if we finalized the adoption sometime around my birthday. I may not yet be wrong in that.

But that's little consolation as to what's swirling around us right now. Please take a moment to pray for us, if so inclined. Otherwise, you're free to send a supportive email, leave a comment on my dead-tree-related blog or call to verbally kick me in the head. Whichever; something's better than nothing same ol' same ol' at this point.

Thanks.

It was a rather unremarkable Tuesday morning - not unlike this one, I hope. I know that it wasn't The Wif's nail day because we were headed towards town together that morning. Fresh on the vapors of our conversation was a phone call she'd recently had with a friend and former co-worker. She had just moved out to the east coast in order to be closer to aging family members and had called to share her tales of woe over having to live so close to them.

It was a common theme between them - at first - and I took great pleasure in mocking her surprise at the predictable.

We were driving along a new stretch of State Highway while discussing her dilemma. If you ask me, this particular 'jog' of asphalt is a rather unfortunate one; it's virgin territory - then-freshly carved down to grade from what used to be scenic hillside - but it also affords a view of a strip mall which was designed to back to that hill for generations to come. The price of progress, I suppose.

In fact, I can tell you - within about 10 yards - exactly where we were when the news broke that a "small plane" had flown into the World Trade Center Tower. I remember it clearly, partly because we were listening to an FM station at the time and news reports were few and far between, so this was a surprise on a couple of levels already. But I also remember it because I made a joke when the news first broke.

Given the truth that quickly emerged that fateful Tuesday morning, I'm not proud to admit that, but it's the truth. I remember saying something in reference to the crash and The Wif's friend that went something like, "All that trouble with her family and now she has to deal with airplanes flying into her office building!"

ha. ha. As things would happen, I was, (as usual) incorrect about where she worked - although I think that was her subway/coffee stop (at last check, she's still alive and kicking) - and was grossly wrong about how serious the news of That Day would prove to be. And not that it's an excuse, but I suspect that's one of the rare times that I was actually among the majority of the American population.

We continued on, because it was expected that we'd be at work that day, but here my memory grows slightly fuzzy: did I hear the account of both the first AND the second strike, or did the first attack happen while we listened to music? I'm not all that clear on the order of things, but I remain certain as to where I FIRST heard the news. I do remember hearing something about a plane "crashing through" the WTC tower.

Again, I'm not completely clear as to the order and sequence of what I heard when, but I do recall that once we were in the office, I was the one to grab the 13" TV/VCR combo from the conference room and trying to find a screwdriver so that I could attach the antenna. (In the end I used a dime.) I remember carrying the unit to a common area and placing it as close to the windows as the antenna would allow for best reception.

And I remember all of us crowding around and hunching in so as to best view the scratchy telecast and catch as much of the audio as we could. We were interested. We were scared. We were at a loss as to what was going on. After all, this was new territory for us and nobody really knew what was going on.

I called down to The Wif's office to see if they were aware of the true scope of things. She replied that the entire office was watching things unfold on a cable-clear broadcast from the Fox News Network. It was an answer and an offer all in one, because I would have loved to see clear, color pictures in order to try and better understand what was going on.

Instead, I simply hung up the phone and went back to our scratchy black-and-white view of Our New World. It was enough for me to know that she was safe and a clear, color view of what was happening wasn't enough to lure me away from my office, even if it would have meant just a 2 floor trip to her office. After all, work was expected and the world must go on and phones had to be answered...

As the first signs of potential collapse became visible, everybody in my office suddenly became an expert in terrorism/explosives/chemical weapons/enemy tactics. Some of us wondered if the new "puffs" of white smoke were some sort of chemical "they" had packed. Some speculated that the plane passengers had survived and were carrying out some sort of "phase II" of the attack. Others wondered what else was to come.

Indeed.

News came that there was a strike against the Pentagon - another plane with untold numbers of souls aboard. An informal "body count" started to mount. Numbers in the 30,000's and 50,000's were bandied about as if we were talking about the Broncos' season-end record.

One tower collapsed. And then another. Somewhere in there was the strike on the Pentagon and as our late-arriving attorney told us, there was a rumor of a plane crash somewhere in Pennsylvania; word was, "they" were going after Camp David. It made perfect sense at the time.

We all watched, because that was all we could do. Some left to return phone calls or to proof a letter or send an email, but everyone always came back to that small screen for updates. Finally, an official from the director's office came in and said it was time to close up shop and go home. It was an interesting offer, because nobody there had yet considered it; no one left the office. Not one person headed for home until they were told it was OK to do so. We were all where we were supposed to be - if not all doing what we were supposed to be doing.

As the office closed and the masses of shocked people headed for their cars I caught up with The Wif. There was chatter in the parking lot about What To Do Next and the answers were interesting. They ranged from the personal, ("let's go give blood"), to the political, ("Nuke those 'F'n' bastards!") to The Wif's, ("let's go home").

We went home, where she wrapped herself in blankets on a comfy surface as I paced the floor and (finally) watched Fox News. We knew what was coming -- HELL, it was already here; our cities would become ghost towns because nobody would dare to travel there. The malls would close because commerce had been dealt an unrecoverable blow. Schools would dream of the days of Columbine and doctors would resume making house calls because nobody would EVER visit a hospital again.

some of us even considered our food and water supply and how safe they really were from this new threat. EVERYTHING was in turmoil and there were no answers to be found...

...

And a mere six years later, where do we find ourselves? What of those original fears - are they to be written off simply because we haven't yet experienced them, or are they still, on a certain level at least, something to be considered? And why haven't we experienced another attack of such severity -- do "they" suddenly like us? Have "they" suddenly abandoned their jihad against us because the congress is controlled by democrats, (just consult the latest obl video if you're unclear on that one)?

Why haven't we seen another attack that would elicit numbers in the 30 - 50 thousand guessage? Is the answer too obvious for the question?

Bruce Lee taught that one only need fear the "immediate threat." That is, a person within a two-foot circle around you - roughly defined as the largest circle one can draw on the ground with an outstretched leg - whom you know wishes you harm. He argued that so long as your known enemy is outside of that range you have nothing to fear.

I argue that his circle of "personal safety" has been expanded. To roughly 20,000 miles as of this date, six years past...

I'm confessing in advance to feeling a little silly about writing this in the first place and I'm pretty sure you'll feel the same way about reading it once you're done. But that hasn't stopped me in the past, so why would I allow it to now?

This week - fast on the heels of last week - has tended to be an ever-increasing trek into turmoil. The family hasn't sufferend another loss, but I think mainly because the one was enough. For now. Still, I've been hammering away on my many projects for my many bosses and for once I find myself with time on my hands - literally.

It's a strange circumstance that's unknown to me and I hope to make good use of it. If only to put one boss on hold in order to please another. But I had no idea the issue was coming into such clarity all at once...

I had to leave the house on Saturday last. The tasks I was burdened with included everything from taking poopy diapers to the dump to collecting one specific item from our storage unit to collecting dinner, (Italian sauce-bread and various accessories) on my way home.

I could have very well completed those tasks on my own, but in an effort to reach out to my daughter - and provide about 20 minutes of peace to her mother - I asked "M" if she'd like to join me. She said "yes" and after we had both changed into more appropriate public clothing, we left together in The Death Star.

And we weren't 40 yards out from our driveway before I noticed that there's YET ANOTHER home for sale on our block. That means that there's 3 in a row (2 by the same office), and a major up-scale to pass before anybody gets even close to our driveway. Like anybody wants to sell in those conditions!

But wait just a second: Each of those 3 homes are smaller than ours. And their lots - while they might be bigger - don't contain nearly the usable land that ours does, such as it is. Best yet? We're below the lowest price by around 50K, as I remember.

So as I recall our circumstance, I'll share it with you as best I can. Check out: RE Colorado and then plug in our street name and zip code. In case you don't remember, our street is named after a tree, [Ian] and our "zip code" is a five-digit number. Let me know if you have a problem figuring out either of these clues and I'll be sure to confuse you further. (True friends know I'm kidding, of course.)

(Further details available upon request and without any trace of judgment at my usual addy.)

Oh - and if you know somebody looking to settle in this area, by all means, please give them our contact infomration...

Well, yesterday was a mess, wasn't it? I sat here and tried to decide whether I should start in on the subject at hand - given the lateness of the hour and knowing that I wouldn't be able to finish as I wanted - or just leave another blank page this week. As you could see, I zigged when I should'a zagged. If you catch my meaning.

The other thing was that my mind was overflowing with ideas and themes and directions to chase such that I'd be utterly unable to address them all. That much is still true. But, I feel better equipped - having taken another day to assess things, and am perfectly willing to (Holy Krep! There's an aircraft passing by overhead. [because if it passed by beneath my feet it would be a very large mole, I suppose] It's currently 9:44, dark as the recesses of mikey moore's skull and it was a prop engine. I'd LOVE to know THAT story!), force this upon you even though it's Friday...

L'il chuckie's comment - on the record because he stupidly chose to deliver it while on the floor of the senate - was that things in Iraq were improving not because of the surge, but in spite of it (his words). He went on to say that the change in position was due to the American Troops' "inability" to protect certain tribes from al quaeda forces, which in turn forced those tribes to rise up against the al quaeda on their own.

Because - if you caught his meaning - the Americans couldn't handle it. They weren't up to the task. They were incompetent in the face of this specific challenge. Our troops - even as advanced as they are - were completely unable to rise to the challenge of engaging, arming and training 'Ay-raabs' such that they might counter the threat posed by the foreign invaders.

Even to the point that they had to take on the job themselves. Which proved exactly what the President has said all along: as the Iraqis stand up, we will stand down.

And that's the second point that comes to mind, (remember: the first point is that L'il chuckie claims that the American troops were unable to rise to the challenge of protecting certain tribes from a certain collection of out-of-town N'er-do-well's). The President ordered a "surge" - as its come to be called - in American troop levels in Iraq in order to quell the arab-on-arab violence, and by all accounts it seems to be working.

Now, wasn't one of the early and constant complaints from the left that we'd "underutilized" our forces in theater? weren't the early leftist critics saying "more troops! more troops!"? And then, when The President sent in extra troops didn't those same critics say, "too little, too late," (or, it won't matter now), just as the al quaeda leaders in Iraq headed for friendlier climes?

And more importantly, just as 'the surge' was starting to take effect, wasn't there also a surge in the number of car-bombings on innocent civilians? Isn't this proof enough that our surge was met by an attemptingly equal surge by the enemy?

Of course that's the case, and it proves something the left doesn't want anyone to recognize: The current battlefield in this clash of submission versus Freedom is in the streets of Iraq.

Most importantly, L'il chuckie's off-hand slander of American Forces contained another important truth that he let slip out unintentionally: there are al quaeda operatives, leaders and forces in Iraq. This is something that the left has denied time and time again.

Oh, the dangers of an open mic. But you can't blame L'il chuckie, because his brain is a single-celled organism incapable of even the simplest forms of reproduction - much less actual thought. And stamped on that single cell he carries around within his skull are the letters "DNC." Because he has proven time and time again that he is a democrat first, and his status as an American citizen comes somewhere much lower on the list.

Once our crack research team actually discovers where it lies on his list of priorities, we'll announce the results here...

WOE IS ME...

I don't believe it: I missed trash day - even though I knew it was a day late (because of the Holiday) this week. I even heard the truck coming up our road and recognized it from a distance enough that would have allowed me to get the bags to the bottom of the driveway in time to be picked up. But did I act on that knowledge?

Well, if I had you might actually have something interesting to read in this space instead of this crap. But no matter; I'm a bit of an optimist (now) and have learned to spin snot into silk. (Which means that our entire house is now covered in silk. Three inches thick in some places, just in case you were wondering.)

So my latest line - but not untruth - is that I have to take the new floor remnants that currently occupy my truck bed to the dump, so why not carry along the household garbage?

It's both lame and true and I plan to see to it all tomorrow. Should cost me around $30.

And then there's the real tragedy of the day; my home theater system seems to have died. That's right, it's unresponsive. Passed on. Pining for the fjords...

And there's little I can do about it at the moment. After all - my first impulse was to open it up and poke around a little. But then I figured that would void my warranty. And then I figured that it was most likely out of warranty already, so why not?!?

Then the grown-up in me sent the juvenile to nap time and all was better. I can only guess that it's a problem in the power supply, but that may be a bit of projection due to the symptoms and the fact that the powered unit looks an awful lot like the servers I tend to every day of my professional life.

So I may yet be wrong. My other answer was to pull the entire system out of the house and send it into storage. Of course, if there's a warranty in play this action is sure to run out the clock on that option as the mice chew through the wires -- OR - as the speaker wires hang uselessly from holes in the ceiling and connect to nothing at all.

And believe me, we already have enough holes in the ceiling that lead to nothing...

J.O.T.W...

A blonde calls her boyfriend and says, "Please come over here and help me. I have a killer jigsaw puzzle and I can't figure out how to get it started."

Her boyfriend asks, "What is it supposed to be when it's finished?"

The blonde says, "According to the picture on the box, it's a tiger."

Her boyfriend decides to go over and help with the puzzle. She lets him in and shows him where she has the puzzle spread all over the table. He studies the pieces for a moment, then looks at the box, then turns to her and says "First of all, no matter what we do, we're not going to be able to assemble these pieces into anything resembling a tiger."

He takes her hand and says, "Second, I want you to relax. Let's have a nice cup of tea.

And then..." he sighed, "let's put all these Frosted Flakes back in the box."

I am currently so... Well, the words fail me. 'Incensed' has too much hippy-vibe attached to it to be taken seriously and 'enraged' carries too much neo-hippie language to be taken seriously.

Wait a minute -- I'm starting to believe that all public "rage" is of a leftist nature and therefore is to be discarded out of hand no matter what the issue. But that doesn't quite work for me in this circumstance. Which means that I'll have to explain why that is.

Which means that I'll have to duct-tape my skull in order to NOT have it explode as I continue. Please be patient as I embark on that mission...

(round and round the grey bunny goes...)

(dragging the tape but led by his nose...)

(he's carrying a stick and he knows where it goes...)

(so he's heading straight forOK - I think we're done here for now. But only time will tell...

L'il chuckie schumer - the minor league senator from new york - went out of his way to insult American troops in Iraq yesterday. Of course that wasn't his goal. His goal was to insult the President, but he chose the American Armed Forces as his tool towards said goal. And in so doing, insulted our Armed Forces.

Of course its fair to say that he didn't intend to insult the troops -- but just so far as it's fair to say that I believe chuckie doesn't molest Collies.

After all, both views are in the public eye. (And more to follow once I'm more awake. Just so you're prepared for it, Dood and TBO...)

I can't believe I just willingly quoted - well, paraphrased - an REM song. Man I must be getting desperate or something! Seriously, if I ever knowingly quote Springsteen you have the right to knock me on the back of the head with a dead squirrel...

Well Labor Day has come, drugged and tied up summer and was last seen dragging it through the gate out back. At least, that's what we've come to believe - and not without reason I hasten to add; school is back in session and local retailers have box upon box of Halloween candy on their shelves. Yep, Global August is over and things are starting to cool off.

I've always felt that Mother's Day was summer's "gateway drug." That is, the middle of May is pretty reliably warm, so you get a hint of what's to come and then WHAMMO! Memorial Day lands with a thud and summer's off to the races in all but official terms. Of course, Memorial Day leads to Father's Day who holds the door open for the Fourth and by then, there's no mistaking it; Summer is - and always has been - here.

The start of the season has always seemed so much faster to me. It's like summer's been in a rush to get here but, like an old Uncle who is so much fun for 3 days, makes a point of sticking around too long. I'm sure that I've felt that way because I've always favored and anticipated the fall and winter days and Holidays. It's only natural, right? If you've got a root canal scheduled and a birthday coming up the dentist always comes faster than the birthday seems to - even if they're on the same day.

(Although I'd personally have to wonder about what kind of sicko would schedule a root canal on their birthday. Unless they're some kind of masochist who thrives on pain and enjoys friends and family questioning their sanity. There could be extenuating circumstances I suppose. Something like that's the only day they're going to be in town, or maybe their family is using the occasion to jet them off to some exotic locale and that was the only appointment available. That might make sense. Plus, given all the insurance regulations maybe that's some new rule: You may only go to the dentist on your birthday. That way, they can better track your care and how many visits you make. Now, where was I? Oh yeah, ...AND STAY OUT OF MY BOOZE!)

(Please remember, gentle reader, that text displayed as above is a quote from "The Simpsons" - an American television show which has been hilarious for 8 of its 15 seasons. Code Monkey is sure to write to say that I'm being generous.)

Anywhooo, along with all the other things I cannot explain - such as why a 2 year old male would continually slam his head against the wall - is the fact that I'm not giving summer the bum's rush this year. I have my suspicion - 3 of them to be exact - but even using the kids as an excuse won't fly.

A big part of me is looking forward to the passing of the years in order to see what becomes of my kids. You know - see if D-Man even takes an interest in football much less becomes the star of the team, see if "M's" bizarre interest in blood and injury makes her a doctor or a serial killer and see if The Binkster ever learns to say "yes." Those sorts of things. So as a part of that feeling, you'd think I'd welcome the passing of time, because it would bring me closer to finding those answers.

Ah -- but in the passing of time I lose my kids; they grow up and - yes - begin to answer those questions and many others. It's a bit of a Catch-22. (Call me Yossarian)

So what's the answer? Well, does there honestly have to be an answer? I mean, given these opposite forces pulling on me, can't I just drop out of the game and decide to watch my kids grow as the seasons do their own thing?

After all, there's not a darn thing I can do about it anyway, so I'll just sit back and enjoy the ride...

AND THEN THERE'S THIS...

I guess it's just another reason to linger lovingly over all the days of summer. Each and every one of them because they are precious beyond all belief if only for this reason: congress is on vacation! That's right - those overpaid, under-regulated, self-important gasbags take all of August - and more - off work. Who do these guys think they are, france?!?

Ah, but there's the rub, (as my good friend Wilfred Shakespeare once said): during those hot, summer days those guys are out among the people. Sure it's a dangerous proposition but I sleep better at night knowing that ted kennedy's greatest risk to the public is via his automobile, rather than harsh, restrictive legislation. After all, his summer RP is limited to one or two people while at all other times of the year he endangers the entire world's population.

It's a risk I think we need to take more often, frankly...

Seriously - who out there feels better, safer and more secure now that congress is back in session? I guess the good news is that under the democrat "leadership" they actually haven't accomplished anything of note, so that's kinda like them being on vacation.

AND THEN THERE'S FAMILY...

Now, why would this be a problem? Well, aside from the obvious tripping hazard they present, it signifies a breakdown in The Wif's Grand Plan to Completely Cover The Carpet With Women's Shoes. While it might look as if decent progress has already been made, the keen male - and every female - will notice that those shoes are of different sizes. This can only mean one thing: she's brought in reinforcements!

That's right! In a move so cunning you could cut your hair with it, (cash prize to the first person who can cite that reference), she's opened up our home to another female - obviously wanting to fulfill her evil desire to foist footwear upon the family.

How can I be sure, you ask? Well just take a gander at THIS shot - taken just an hour later. Oh, they're on the move alright...

Seriously: thanks to each and every one of you who expressed your care and concern. It did not go unnoticed and if I haven't responded yet, it's only due to time constraints. Thank you.

Guess how I spent my Labor Day weekend. C'mon, guess. It'll be fun kill a couple of minutes. Barbecue? Well, I did grill up a steak at one point - but only for myself, not the family, so I'm not sure that counts in the fine Labor Day Tradition. Go to a parade? Yeah, sure. Watch football? I did manage to catch some of the Broncos' low-lights but no, that was not a major portion of my weekend.

In fact, I hesitate to mention how I actually spent the weekend, because for a federal employee to say he actually worked all weekend is akin to telling people you're on a first-name basis with the tooth fairy and he (Herb, BTW) helped you capture a leprechaun on your unicorn farm. In fact, these days the latter is probably more believable.

Still, that's how I spent my weekend: working. I was on a "special project" that involved searching through gigantic files for teeny, tiny little words. And then devising a way to collect the instances of those words. How difficult was it? Well, I put in 30 hours (29 1/2 - I wouldn't want to exaggerate), over the weekend and worked most of Tuesday on it and I'm STILL not done. While I thought I was finishing up this afternoon the program crashed. Once restarted, it wanted to verify the state of the file I'd created. A file which was nearing 2 GIGABYTES in size the last time I looked. Do you have any idea how long that's going to take? Well, microsquish said 6 hours.

So they don't have a clue, either...

Ada Grace Rowe

December 10, 1914 — September 1, 2007

Rest in Peace. And thank you for all you've given me.

AND THEN THERE'S WORK...