TERROR ALERT LEVEL:

This krep was posted:

June 2009
	1	2	3	4	5	6
7	8	9	10	11	12	13
14	15	16	17	18	19	20
21	22	23	24	25	26	27
28	29	30

Older stuff...

— 2009 —

May 2009

April 2009

Smarch 2009

February 2009

Same guy, different krep...
Father Knows

Things to put in your head...

Friends...

Everyday reads...

Read on his terms...
Lileks

Stuff for your ears...

 

Check it out...

My Amazon Wish List

All commentary Copyright Stonestead.com, 2007. No part may be reproduced without permission. All statements within are the express view of the author and not necessarily those of his employeer, his clergy, his spouse, his friends or even himself.

Oh, crud. I just realized that the title I finally settled on above has at least one other meaning and it's not exactly what I would mean for it to be. So let's just go with this - the original intent:

The year is half over. Easy enough to grasp in real terms and in artificial terms, well, the Fourth will be here before the weekend is. This brings about a whole bunch of opportunities that will go missed. Still, 7/1 is 1/2 no matter how you cut it.

A major saying comes to mind: "Knee-high by the Fourth of July" as it relates to corn crops. We've got a great big "CHECK" on that that one. And my peas? Just crazy as well.

Too bad it takes roughly 1,000,000 planted and tended acres in order to produce a single family dinner on that front...

So there's a big, new polar bear study out and it proves what those of us "in the know," (that is to say, "those of us not in the bag,") already knew: anyone who buys this crap that polar bears are dying because of shrinking ice floes needs to be set afloat on one.

Look. Polar bears are predators. And carnivores. Hell, they're carnivore predators and they can't be bothered with your sympathy. In fact, if you ask ANY "human shield" who decides to strap themselves to a polar bear to protect them from global WHATEVER IT IS THESE DAYS I'll make a point of trying to keep you safe while you question any remaining limb as to their motivation.

I'm just that kind of guy...

As mentioned yesterday, Billy Mays has left us. Strange, but not completely so and I say this as someone who never saw it coming. I've guessed before. Been "on record" even as recently as last week. Never saw that coming.

Of course the jokes are coming fast-N-furious about Billy and michael. So far, I've seen that things have been quiet as regards Farrah. Funny that; it's almost as if we humans still have a sense of decency or something.

But y'all will have to prove that to me...

It'll take some time, because I'm more than ready to belive that the human condition runs in the opposite direction.

This Weekend has just seen so many changes that I honestly wonder where I'm going to begin. Well, no: that's not completely true. Let's start with the most obvious... I now own a minivan.

dammit, [/Walter].

The Wif insisted on buying her Mom's minivan once it became obvious that it would be available and my own wretched stupidity that created a 14 thousand dollar tax refund helped to ensure that half of that would go towards paying for the minivan. So it now sits in my garage.

Yes: the garage I work to pay for, the insurance I work to pay and now gasoline that I pay to Pump-N-Burn are going for the benefit of a FRICKIN' minivan. It bites.

The thing is, I used to get into The Wif's car for short errands around town. You know, to go to the store, pick up the Monsters, get the occasional quart of milk of loaf of bread because her SUV was in the garage and was therefore at least slightly cooler than my truck. (Plus, some part of me is still tied to the idea that we have separate accounts so if I'm able to burn HER gas instead of my own, then I'm getting away with someting.)

So I'm rather used to taking the vehicle that's parked in the garage. After all, it's cooler and easier than trying to get kids into a higher-platformed, HOTTER, version of what they're used to. So the layout now is... Well. Krep. Hold on...

We had her Exploder (Ezmerelda), in the garage and The World's Ugliest Trailer squeezed against the edge of the driveway, (lest it incur Eva Braun's wrath), and she (somehow - don't tell I said that, but I have facts in evidence), managed to drive around it most of the time. After the trailer sold, I spent 2 glorious days parking The Death Star half-in and half-out of the driveway, neighbors be damned.

Now -- my truck is back in the street and Ezmerelda is parked in Limbo. I'm just dying to hear about how it can't be there so that I can show that on one day every two weeks, it isn't there.

But that's separate from the fact that I have a minivan in my garage.

Yes: MY GARAGE.

Still, it beats being a celebrity this week, eh? And before we start this one, does everyone have their Venn diagrams with them? Because they're really going to come in handy...

Farrah. So expected that my spell-checker didn't even pretend to notice. sure, yeah, whatever... Expected. No surprise.

Then there was michael jackson. Expected, but a surprise. Never did a thing for me but I was curious to note how many people (READ: WOMEN) called the shows I listen to beg -- BEG -- others NOT to request a refund for the shows, because "the family" needed it so much.

I thought we were busy HATING the rich these days. What - am I out of touch?

And then there's my doppelganger: Billy Mays. Gone now and R.I.P. Strangely, I feel the most for his loss and not just because he looked the most like me of the three, (But give jackson another million for surgery...)

The funny thing (for me) is that I refused to belive the Billy Mays story. On a certain level, I still don't. I expect it will be revealed as an Internet hoax any minute now.

He's just the strangest end to the strangest trifecta ever invented...

With the appearance of Global Summer, (although an argument could be made to the contrary), I've taken the next step -- and at the request of my eldest son -- I've shaved my head. Again.

Given that, it was very interesting to try and pick up my kids at day care today: My Lovely Daughter didn't recognize me, my youngest son stared at me for the longest time before asking, "What happen you hair?" and D-Man further went about proving that he's the Child From Space. Which was completely expected.

The best part is that I was able to sneak out of the house in order to go get lunch. And by "sneak out" I mean that I SHOUTED into the kitchen from the front door, "I'm going to go get some lunch! and got no response.

So I got lunch instead.

When I returned, I entered the home and walked through the "living room," (DISCLAIMER: NO ACTUAL "LIVING" TAKES PLACE IN THIS ROOM), and into the kitchen where I found The Wif had her back to me

She screamed at me, (YEEEEAAAAUUUGGHH!!! Style), for most of a minute. (Her usual response) and then I watched her eyes scan my newly-bald head and her scream doubled in length and intensity.

It would be another five hours after she finally calmed down, we took the kids to an indoor-forced swimming lesson and returned home before she said, "Oh! You shaved off the sides of your beard too!"

We had an agreement early on: but a goatee IS a beard. So I'm at least upholding my end of the deal...

I wish I could be more frank about what's going on around here recently. (We'll see what happens.) Let's just say that it's the exact opposite of john & kate so The Wif and I are growing ever more close.

And Man-Oh-Man how I've been deprived of sleep lately...

J.O.T.W.

A pious man who had reached the age of 105 suddenly stopped going to synagogue. Alarmed by the old fellow's absence after so many years of faithful attendance the Rabbi went to see him.

He found him in excellent health, so the Rabbi asked, How come after all these years we don't see you at services anymore?

The old man looked around and lowered his voice. I'll tell you, Rabbi, he whispered. When I got to be 90, I expected God to take me any day. But then I got to be 95, then 100, then 105. So I figured that God is very busy and must've forgotten about me, and I don't want to remind Him!

So -- tomorrow's the big day: the BIG celebration: the day of great rejoicing for what was bestowed upon us all those years ago. And it's about time, frankly.

That's right! It's National Bomb Pop day! Time to celebrate all things frozen, sweet, missile-shaped and patriotically colored! PLUS, they have FINS!! (Not to mention other attributes/history that must remain unnamed due to space considerations. Do you even realize how close the interwebs are to filling up? Serious problem here, people.)

So today, let's all go out, find and buy a bomb pop and enjoy it in the heat of the day. And show yourself while doing so! Don't be ashamed or cow-towed into reluctance - it's time to stand up and be counted! And don't put it off, because - due to global warming cooling "climate change" whatever, National Bomb Pop day will be moved to February next year.

It HAS to be true. I read it on the Internet.

Oh - and it's also my brother's birthday. I think he'll be thirtyeleventytwentyeight. But I'm just guessing at this point.

Happy Birthday, Bro. Love you and wish you the best.

I have what looks to be a very promising movie sitting on my hard drive right now and I'd love to get to it, but probably won't be able to for a few days. It's called "The Broken" and was part of "Horrorfest 3." Looks good. Can't wait to see it. Then again, now that I've raised my expectations it'll probably fall short and I'll declare a fatwah against at least 4 people involved in its production.

Speaking of movies, the kids' movie this week is "Monsters Inc." I've heard nothing but good things about it, but I still decided to go to my online reference to check it out.

Well.

It seems there are some "violent" scenes, (at least some scenes that are considered violent for a "G" rated cartoon), and it gave me a second of pause. Until I remembered that my kids have seen scenes from "Alien Vs. Predator" and could therefore probably handle watching Billy Crystal's character yelling at John Goodman's character.

Maybe. I'll be on watch...

The miracle of craigslist, (the interwebs don't recognize capitalization), still continues to amaze me. In fact, I'm beginning to wonder why newspapers even bother to try to publish a print edition. After all, their main sources of revenue seem to be ads, (replaced by the Interwebs), and classifieds, (also replaced by the Interwebs), so what's the point? Could they possibly raise the price of a print ad to two dollars a word in order to make up for lost subscriptions?

(Well, I hope they can manage it for a time because that's where my Mother works. Unfortunately, the writing is on the wall.)

Anyway, on Tuesday night The Wif told me she needed pictures of the World's Ugliest Trailer which was residing on our driveway. Instead of asking "why?" I went with the world's best Husband Answer, said "yes dear," grabbed the camera and shot the shots.

I posted the pics and she finished the post. Mere minutes later she got a call and then 2 emails. The first guy came 'round, dodged our dogs, checked things out and finally offered 80% of the asking price. We gladly and roundly accepted.

And now - and for now - my truck is parked in the driveway. Sure, half of it is parked on an "unimproved surface," but I'm MORE than happy to place it there, wait for Eva Braun to take notice and cite me, then spend two or three nights on the street and wait for the next citation.

Few people hold a grudge better than I do...

Oh, man. Last year - our first in this new location - I was concentrated on the front of our home: digging up a small section close to the house and replacing the clay with as much peat as possible. I then dug a two foot deep/wide hole in order to plant a rose and planted several Fall bulbs as well as two sickly strawberry plants. Guess what survives?

Actually, the rose is doing great and should be featured on the package for all future sales of the same type of rose, ("Abraham Lincoln," I believe). The strawberries have also flourished and even produced some fruit. Although the entire harvest could be consumed in about 12 seconds during snack time. Not even enough for a strawberry- banana smoothie. Of course, the others were annuals and they went to join the choir invisible last winter.

The only other thing still vibrantly alive in my little flower garden is a ton and a half of weeds. But it's no longer my concern, because The Wif has taken the thing over, kind of: she's planted another batch of annuals - without really knowing where the bulbs are going to come up - and has started watering the lawn/flower bed, (even though it's really not been necessary this year thanks to global warming). So she's showing signs of ownership there and that's plenty O-TAY with me. So long as she gets out there and pulls the dang weeds.

Because I now FINALLY have a garden. Well, a Starter's Garden - but HEY, it's a start. (LAUGH! [/michelleobama])

The 8'X 8' box that nearly killed me is home to a row of thriving peas - already climbing their way up the support I provided - four pumpkin plant which have mysteriously managed to survive this long, including Bink's whose plant is growing and spreading and encroaching upon my corn.

My gorgeous, growing corn plants which hold all my fall hopes for inanimate objects on my property. Yeah. THAT corn. The corn that - should the old saying, "knee-high by the Fourth Of July" hold true as a herald of a good crop - I'll be eating my very own home-grown corn before Labor Day.

It's kind of a dream of mine. My inner-farmer declares it so.

Of course, there's a down side to every up-side and I've already identified mine: the inner-farmer wants TO BE a farmer, (big surprise, right?), and to that end is FAR too concerned with seasons and sunrises and sunsets. I've always been aware of such things, so it comes as small surprise to me. The thing is, given my allergies I had spent much of my life living away from the irritants; i.e., grass and mold. So I moved up the hill and was very reluctant to come back down. Believe me -- that was difficult.

But I've only realized the abuse on my body recently. Namely, that the FREAKIN' SUN RISES at roughly 4:40AM around these parts, (or so it seems), and it's COMPLETELY OBNOXIOUS! Good mercy! I mean, it's not my job to pick out drapes and blinds and such, (just to hang them once a decision is made), but I'm about ready to paint the windows black. Between the street lights and the early sun, I'm usually up around 5-something these days.

Then again, if we visit SilverLining Land, the good news is that I can get up, take care of some urgent business and still have at least an hour to sleep before my very, very rude alarm awakens me. And Cloud City tends to teach that the best 20 minutes of sleep ALWAYS occur just before the alarm goes off.

But I wander...

Would it be possible to cover JUST our bedroom with a section of a fumigation tent? Well, maybe. But I bet I can accomplish the same result with a different function if I put my mind to it...

I have to be honest with you: I didn't expect much to come from the Iranian riots. After all, the mullahs practice pellosi-style gun control, so when the hired thugs fire on the crowds it's a one-way exchange.

Brief explanation: of course the ruling heads of iran have a standing army at their disposal and of course some unknown percentage of them are fiercely loyal to the leadership and would bash heads if for no other reason than a woman in the crowd showed too much ankle. That's a given. The more interesting part of the story seems to be that the mullahs imported hired muscle in order to suppress the expected uprisings.

How funny that they're so sure of their belief that they're willing to send State forces out to crack heads - but also bring in paid, foreign reinforcements to make sure the job gets done. HA! It's a laugh a minute over there in mullah-land!

And yes, I know many of you tire of these sorts of subjects and shame on you for that. If you haven't already crossed the border, you are at least dancing on the line of becoming a "happy idiot." I first became aware of the term thanks to Jackson Browne and it was later reinforced by Tony Soprano, but I suspect that it pre-dates either of them by a period that could be counted in decades.

For some reason, it sounds Prussian to me...

If you're unaware of what's going on in Iran (and by association, America), today, then that's your own fault: the information is out there and - SCREW THE ECONOMY - IRAN is the biggest story of the day.

Of course, brian williams, chris matthews, keith olberwhimp and katie the perky don't agree, so maybe you're not seeing it.

So maybe it's time to START seeing it through your own eyes -- rather than theirs. But I bet I'm preaching to the monitor on this one.

AGAIN.

So - Father's Day has come and gone and the same for the start of Summer. Bad news for you heat-o-philes; the days get shorter now and it's time to start thinking about what pattern you want on your Jack-O-Lantern, (a mere 131 days away, Halloween is), or what to order for your spouse for Christmas, (185 days). Better hurry...

My Father's Day was as bizarre as the rest of my days: I got to sleep in, (YAY FATHER'S DAY!), but then had to alone wrangle all 3 monsters through awakening, breakfast, dressing, hair styling, transportation, church service, (as long as they could stand), lunch, packing, water re-load, bathroom trips, (D-Man went at least 5 times - not kidding and have to watch that), transport home, naps (for everybody except My Lovely Daughter) and waiting for Mommy.

Who came home and promptly went to sleep. Leaving me to get the Monsters up, make sure they put their shirts back on, (because like all little ape-boys they'd just as soon run around naked if they could), finish the dinner I'd already started the day before, watch the kids as they ran around with plastic baseball bats or foam swords and slowly beat each other into bloody pulps - while My Lovely Daughter created graphs, (yes, graphs) - and then round them up to help set the table.

In short, (too late)? I spent my Father's Day BEING a Father. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

(Except for actually being able to sleep in sometime. Perhaps in 2020 or so...)

I REFUSE to believe that things are coming as true as it was predicted they would. I mean, I'm by nature a natural skeptic, ("I am a dead-eye shot, shooting," - name the movie), so I'm more than eager to challenge all claims from every side and I'm more than willing to call "B.S!" when I spot it.

Honestly - I dismissed those who called the little o a muslim. I laughed at those who brought the lawsuits about the birth certificate. I questioned the efficacy of those who said his administration would prove to be the second carter term.

I question the latter no longer...

The Wimp In Chief has made his official stance one of, "we will not meddle in the affairs of, 'HEY YOU! JEW! DON'T BE BUILDING ANOTHER ROOM ON YOUR HOUSE FOR YOUR NEW BABY!,' other nations." And in doing so, has declared a completely limp-wristed response to the phony sham of a farce of the elections in Iran.

For PETE's SAKE! The people are rising up! They're challenging the powers that be and fighting for change, revolution and Freedom! This is the linchpin event we've been waiting for since... well, since carter first fumbled the ball in the very same country all those years ago.

How pathetic. This great country is handed a chance to change history, spread freedom, unseat a dangerous regime, stop a world-ending nuclear program, (why is it dangerous if the US has nuclear power plants but not dangerous if a muslim theocracy has a nuclear bomb?), save hundreds upon hundreds of thousands from despotism, but the best the little o can muster is, "we'll wait and see?"

I've said it before and I'll say it again and again: I'd rather be feared and respected than loved but trod upon. Civilizations have failed when they've gotten that wrong...

Regarding the pic I posted earlier, I have made a HUGE observation. Namely, those women who say, "I love the picture!" or something similar are those that I know understand boys/men/fathers. Those who say, "Oh, My!" have a way to go in that field. To that end, there's a young blond I know - making good money - who will prove to be a very good wife to a worthy man.

If only there were more of them about...

There is a large and important thunderstorm rolling in as I prepare to go to bed. How large? I, (yes, me), can smell the rain that I hear the cars rolling over. Pretty big if my damaged nose can sense the sense of the scene.

How important? Well, it's so important that the lightning sent its own business card in advance.

I expect the Thunder's card to arrive in 5 days. (If ANYone gets that, I'd love to know.)

Lileks The King was right - as usual - that for those of us on Twitter, it is in FACT easier to write a complete, concise thought in 140 characters than it is to express an argument in 140 words. It's counter-intuitive, but true all the same.

You knew I couldn't resist:

"On a more serious front, I sincerely hope that when the president goes in for his annual check-up, the doctors at Bethesda will do a brain scan. Surely something must be terribly wrong with a man who seems to be far more concerned with a Jew building a house in Israel than with Muslims building a nuclear bomb in Iran." --columnist Burt Prelutsky

(I'll stop when o does.)

J.O.T.W.

Here are some new golf terms for you. Golf has given us some unusual and colorful terms to describe shots -- shank, chili-dip, skull, duck-hook, worm-burner, etc... Here are some new ones to add to your vocabulary.

A *James Joyce* - an impossible read.

A *Rock Hudson* - looked straight, but wasn't.

A *Cuban* - needed one more revolution.

A *Lou Gehrig* - a dead Yank.

An *Adolf Hitler* - two shots in the bunker.

A *Saddam Hussein* - from one bunker straight into another.

A *Yasser Arafat* - ugly and in the sand.

A *Jennifer Love Hewitt* - little bit fat but otherwise perfect.

A *John Kennedy, Jr.* - didn't make it over the water.

An *Elephant's Arse* - it's high and it stinks.

A *Rodney King* - over-clubbed.

An *O.J. Simpson* - got away with it.

A *Princess Grace* - should have taken a driver.

A *Princess Di* - shouldn't have taken a driver.

A *George W.* - steadily rising.

A *circus tent* - a BIG top.

An *Anna Kournikova* - looks great, but unlikely to get a result.

A *Rush Limbaugh* - too far to the right.

A *Nancy Pelosi* - too far to the left.

The worst part is, I've done all of these. At least now I'll know the proper name for them the next time it happens...

Crikkey. Honestly, I'm trying to mix up the content here so as not to turn everyone away in favor of "Ziggy," but this clown just makes things so danged complicated these days. Bear with me. Or not; I have a feeling this could be a long 3 years...

Another day, another plan to socialize another sector of the (previously) free economy. This time, another swipe at the financial sector.

Now, I'll give this guy credit for choosing his battles. After all, he has "inherited," (his favorite word), an educational system that's fully under the control of the left, so lip-service is enough for them for now. "More money, more teachers," blah, blah, blah. The truth is that he knows nothing more need be done there so he won't bother.

Instead, this is apparently the time to make a power grab for other major "playa's" in the economy, and where better to start than the "Big 3?" After all, if an army moves on it's stomach, America most certainly moves on wheels.

So now that the little o has captured Chrysler and 'Gubermint Moters' - and has enacted policies that are sure to drive Ford out of business - his work there is done. Taxes and tariffs will make short work of the "foreign" plants who build their cars in this country.

Never mind that thousands of American workers will be left without a job - this is Mr. Hopey McChange and he'll make things right through the power of The Teleprompter and the gulf stream of "Good Will."

Disgusting.

The people who yell from the rooftops that they, "care about the little guy," only seem to care about getting him on welfare and unemployment. Tell me I'm wrong.

Worse yet, today, (since it's a new day we need to have a new announcement about further gubermint control), the little o announced additional regulations on financial houses. As with everything he does, (short of his non-response on iran; talk about ham-fisted AND limp-wristed at the same time), it sounds good if you're not bothering to think.

Yes. I know the DOW did little upon the announcement. Do you think that's an accident? The traders have seemingly, finally, learned to wait and see if the legislation matches the announcement. I can't imagine it will for long: things will change, and soon.

If the markets turn up - on no other news - I will be willing to reevaluate my position. Seriously; my goal here is honesty, no matter how painful it may be to either of us.

But if things go south - rising unemployment numbers, rising interest rates, rising National Debt and rising Deficit numbers (there IS a difference), how many of you obamanauts are willing to change from, "at least he's not Bush," to "he may not be God?"

Welcome to Summer! That is, if you live along the 40^th parallel like I do, this is your official solstice, (official meaning: "sitting sun" because it seems that the sun just "sits" in the sky at its northernmost point. Meaning, natch, that it's about to return its journey southward within hours. That would make today and tomorrow the first "day" of summer in these parts.

Now, the cruel part is already deeply underway: we have to put our Knuckleheads to bed while the night sky is still lit and the neighbor kids are still playing across the street. The good news is that they seem to deal with it nicely and both boys have seemingly learned to go right to sleep as is required of them.

So what's to expect? Well, I'm not looking for warm dry weather around here anytime soon; 10 days of rain in a row with temperatures usually reserved for either May or October aren't likely to yield anytime soon. Add to that the fact that Los Angeles has been "bitterly cold," (in the words of it's natives), and Chicago is suffering the coldest Spring ever recorded there, and you've got a political lecture of tremendous proportions in the wait.

But not here, not now; the fact that the latest leftist panic-scare-terror is a farce should not be a surprise to anyone who spends more than 5 minutes here, (God be with you). After all, not a SINGLE! ONE! from them has ever come to fruition, EVER!

But that's a different lecture for a different time...

The events in Iran are certainly worth noting - for everyone EXCEPT the current POTUS, so I'll take a quick stab here. Why the heck not, right?

After the falsity of a sham of a pretend of an "election" - that only carter and the little o would buy as a "real" result - our administration's response has been an underwhelming "Let's see."

Is this how most of us see our country acting on the "international stage?" Are we - as citizens of the Greatest Country Ever On Earth - about to sit by and wait to see what happens there? If so, how many Iranian Civilians have to be slaughtered in the "arab street" before someone says or does something to encourage those rebels who are fighting for freedom?

May the Good Lord help me get this out, but how long until we start to act like the French, (yes, Capital F)? After all, France is FAR more American than America is right now - and the same goes for Germany - which is especially difficult to say but all things go in cycles, right?

I don't blame Slow Joe biden for his pointless comments this past weekend because he just can't help himself: he doesn't know any better. If he says, "we're going to wait and see what happens," it's because his teleprompter is set for a sentence-length of 8 words. And it sticks to that and he sticks to it. Unless he wanders off into really, REALLY funny territory.

But to go from, "Mr. Gorbachev: TEAR DOWN THIS WALL!" and to actually see it happen -- to, '...um, uh, well, I condemn, uh, you know -- violence of all, uh, sorts wherever it might, uh - happen in the rest of the um, world' is quite a jump.

"Progress," indeed...

Today, we're visiting Israel. Not literally, natch: only in a topic-of-the-day sense. Why Israel and why today? What's with all the "why's?" Are you my 3-year-old son or something?!?

In a complete change of course and probably bowing to pressure from the U.S., Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu just endorsed what is commonly called, a, "two state solution." I read the story, groaned, and then realized that there are FAR too many people out there who simply don't understand what's going on over there. Most of whom have also been brainwashed from an early age and don't even have an understanding of the history, much less what exactly is going on.

Now, it's a huge subject so I'm going to have to pick my targets here, (because it's late and only getting earlier, if you know what I mean), so let's begin in the middle. Because it's so often mis-understood as being the beginning...

In 1948, Israel declared itself to be a sovereign nation. Having already been established in ownership and territory - plus after a un resolution to accept a Jewish homeland - they just went ahead and pulled the trigger on the thing. Overnight, there was a recognized, official, Jewish homeland somewhere near the area where a Biblical Jewish homeland had always existed. Well, existed for at least 5,000 years now.

The common - and most hurtful - lie is that the un "MADE" Israel as a payback to Jews who had suffered from the Holocaust. Two things here: first, why "punish" Germany for what they did to the Jews by giving their victims a postage stamp-sized lot of land THOUSANDS OF MILES AWAY FROM GERMANY?!? Shouldn't the offender suffer the loss of real estate? Second, there's this STUPID notion that - once this fictional act was complete - it was an open house for Jews around the country to move into the region, knock on any random arab's door and say, "we're here - get out."

Like all the best of lies, that one holds a small kernel of truth, but we'll get to that in just a second.

(Quick question: how were Israel's borders defined? Which is to ask, what was the force/history that defined that land? Sorry -- that's not a quick question at all.)

The day after Israel declared their independence they were attacked by their arab neighbors. They kicked butt and took control of even more territory. Which they eventually returned.

(Quick question: throughout history, which nations have returned land won during armed conflict? Take your time.)

Another common myth lie about Israel is that they're only still around today because of help from the U.S.. Here's a funny little truth: The U.S. actually had an embargo against Israel during the 1950's. The law was that not even a single pistol could be shipped there, much less fighter planes and anti-aircraft weaponry. My sources tell me that they had to resort to buying french aircraft and retro-fitting them with stuff that actually worked.

(I'd say it's like putting a Porsche engine in a Renault, but that would probably be an inappropriate example.)

So let's get to the terms the LSM so loves to use. The first is "refugee." As in palestinian refugee. what does that mean? After all, if the arabs weren't displaced by the Israelis, (they weren't), how in the world are they "refugees?" And from what?

Here's the kernel of truth I spoke of earlier: in 1967, leading up to what would be called the Six Day War, (leaving a day for Shabbat - imagine that), the arabs spread the word that the attack was coming and told the arabs in Israel to get the heck out, (my words, not theirs), and they left the country carrying all they could.

Well, things went as you might Biblically predict and suddenly there were all these empty houses lying about. Guess what happened in 1967 - two decades after it was supposed to have happened? The Jews successfully defended themselves, protected their homeland, claimed land - again, (which they would later surrender - again), and tried their best to survive alongside those who not only outnumber them by something like a million to one, but do their best to do something the arabs could never even attempt.

Treat their enemies like human beings.

She dug the plot on Monday, the soil was rich and fine
But she forgot to put the dinner on, so out we went to dine.

She planted roses Tuesday, she says they are a must.
They really were quite lovely, but she forgot to dust.

On Wednesday it was daisies they opened with the sun,
All pinks and whites and yellows, but the laundry wasn't done.

The poppies came on Thursday all bright and cherry red,
I guess she really was engrossed, she never made the bed.

It was violets here on Friday in colours she adores,
It never bothered her at all, the dirt upon our floors.

Saturday I hired a maid, I'd not admit defeat,
She can garden all she wants now and the house will still be neat.

It's nearly lunchtime Sunday I cannot find the maid,
Oh I don't believe it. She's out there alongside my wife with her own spade!

Criminey: if it's Tuesday, the leftards are on the ropes. (This also applies if it's Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday or Sunday, BTW.) Since George W was resigned from public service it seems that all of the left's venom is now unfocused. Diffused. Homeless, if you will, (yet ANOTHER homeless statistic that can be directly laid at "W's" feet!).

But even the left is able to understand that if they would focus entirely on Bush it would be a complete waste of time. After all, he's done; served two terms, (a feat only matched on the left in modern times due to the meddling of a rich, insane ross perot). BUT - they're sure as heck not going to let go of their Bush Derangement Syndrome. Not by a long shot. Instead, they have just had to find a new target. And they have: the Beloved Sarah.

That's right. The left - saviors of all minorities and women - have declared it open season upon Alaska's Governor and John McCain's former running mate. Never mind that she's a woman (AND HOW!). A strong woman. A powerful woman. None of that matters to the left because she doesn't believe in sex without consequences and if need be, killing those "consequences."

david letterwhimp wasn't the first to fire the first shot, (a bad metaphor in this case because I'm sure Sarah has much better weapons knowledge AND aim), but he's become one of the latest and most vile.

Now, I'm not sure how much I should hold ol' dave responsible because just like the little o, he simply mouths the words his teleprompter puts in front of him, but it's his show. His name on the door/marquee. It's up to him to approve the things that come out of his mouth and are broadcast under his banner. And he's proven himself to be a despicable human being.

It seems that Sarah and her daughter were at a Yankees game and as you can imagine, it was quite the media event. It was also an opportunity for letterwhimp to make an obscene comment about Sarah's daughter. Her 14 year old daughter. Because, you know, statutory rape is JUST! SO! FUNNY!

Dang. If only Sarah had aborted that mutated fetus and insisted her oldest daughter get rid of that "growth" early on, she could have gotten a free ride from the press and the brainless left.

(I have abandoned the phrase, "brain-dead left" because that implies there was once life above their shoulders. We all know that lefties live just below the belt buckle.)

(YES. I said that.)

Seriously; between the long week "off" and getting everyone where they need to be, (including the kids to their first swimming class - adorable), who can keep up?

And it's not like there's a lack of material: the little o's continuing encroachment upon American companies -- while all the same apologizing to the rest of the world for Americans being American -- are more than enough chum for the water.

Also, I recently upgraded my home office's monitor to a flat-panel and either my inability to install the new drivers or my inability to TONE THE DANG THING DOWN is making this difficult on my eyes.

So we're done here. For now...

Maybe I should issue a short "warning" before I go on: I'm not scheduled to be in the office today or tomorrow. That means that my phone is about to be -- and now is, turned off. After all, I use it mostly for Twitter - and the tweets age nicely - and then most often for text messaging. It's far down the list that "phone calls" finally appear. And even then, calls are as rare as hen's teeth.

Until I'm trying to sleep in while the phone's on the nightstand. Then, suddenly EVERYONE wants to "reach out and touch" me, (in a theoretical sense, natch). So I've slowly learned to turn the danged thing off.

And Off it will stay. For now.

I had found a new incentive to stay home and mow my lawn - above and beyond the fact that it was desperately in need of such: and by "new" I mean "yesterday..."

After what I went through, (and documented), on Sunday, I was in no real hurry to hustle my fat arse up the road and work myself into a state of unappreciated pneumonia again today. Besides, my overly-driven Brother-In-Law seemed to be well in control of the reigns and I had already been relegated to fifth-wheel status.

Which suits me. just! fine! by the way.

So I stayed home, didn't sleep in, and started mowing my weed-field early in the morning. Well, if you count 9 as early. Still, I was out there pushing the mower, kicking over 'shrooms and cursing under my quickly-waning breath as I trod the section of the earth I supposedly own, (just let me miss a payment and see what happens). It looked better once I'd finished, but that's a one foot yardstick, if you catch my meaning.

Then upstairs to catch up on radio, (it was finally Monday, after all), and catch my breath. I listened while I formatted some stuff and hoped to have time to catch a movie.

Well, SOME of what I wanted to format got that way and then the skies threatened, so I went out to mow the back yard. Now, we have a large back yard but that's not the largest problem in mowing it. The largest problem in mowing it is trying to find a pattern in actually mowing it.