TERROR ALERT LEVEL:

This krep was posted:

February 2010
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Same guy, different krep...
Father Knows

Things to put in your head...

Friends...

Everyday reads...

Read on his terms...
Lileks

Stuff for your ears...

 

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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.

One of Microsoft's finest technicans was drafted and sent to boot camp. At the rifle range, he was given some instruction, a rifle, and bullets. He fired several shots at the target. The report came from the target area that all attempts had completely missed the target.

The technician looked at his rifle, and then at the target. He looked at the rifle again, and then at the target again. He put his finger over the end of the rifle barrel and squeezed the trigger with his other hand. The end of his finger was blown off, whereupon he yelled toward the target area, "It's leaving here just fine, the trouble must be at your end!"

And so it was...

The Wif & I are kind of in a rut, food-wise; nothing sounds good and everything sounds like way too much work. We've improvised but you can only order pizza for dinner so many times a week, (7). So last night the kids had frozen dinners, (chicken nuggets, corn, rock-a-ronies), and tonight we went out to dinner. Which is something we don't do much of.

I went online to see which place in the neighborhood had the best kid menu and it turned out to be Chili's over Applebee's in sudden death overtime.

(Sorry - football withdrawal...)

ANYway, I discovered that it was my job to take MLD to karate tonight - against everything that had already been said - and it was agreed that The Wif would grab The Knuckleheads and we'd meet at 5:30 at Chili's. Of course, when my phone rang at about 5:26 it was The Wif saying that she'd just left Target and was on her way to get the boys.

How did I know it was going to happen this way?

Anywho, MLD and I advanced to the restaurant, secured a table and ordered beverages and an appetizer. Then waited. And waited. Finally, the majority of my family arrived to a number of questions. Well, to a number of Binky questions; "Where will Grandpa sit?" They're not coming. "When will Grandma get here?" They're not coming. "Can I drive home?" and so forth...

Let me tell you something: we had the WORLD'S. BEST. SERVER, (waitress). tonight. She was quick, responsive, interactive, patient, answered the couple of questions I had, got the order exactly dead-on and as a result I then did two things I've never done before.

I've always been a generous tipper when it is deserved. I have no problem dropping 20-25% of the bill on the table if everything's gone well and I can at least get the sense that I'm not just another ticket, (which I know that I am, so I guess I'm rewarding acting as well as service), but tonight I left a fresh $20 in the pocket on a $48 bill. I'll save you that math: that's 41.7%. Believe me, she earned it. She was great.

In fact, she was so good that she inspired me to do something else I'd never done before: contact a corporate website to say something POSITIVE about an experience with their company. I sang her praises just as I have here and told "Corporate" that she deserved a raise, a bonus or a promotion. The funny thing is that I'd already decided I was going to do that when the manager, assistant manager or acting manager, (he never introduced himself), came by to ask how everything was. I told him our waitress was just the best, (she was in her early 20's I would guess but who knows these days?), and I was impressed enough that I would email HQ to tell them so.

He said he was glad to hear it, that our waitress was indeed one of their best and they loved to have positive comments emailed to HQ, (as opposed to saying, "that place needs to be killed with fire?" Yeah, I guess so). So I came home and did just as I told the manager I would. We'll see what happens, but I hope the young lass is richly rewarded.

The funniest part was when the manager dude asked if he could clear away any plates from our table. The Wif & I both saw that he wasn't exactly the guy who was going to bus the table so we told him that we were fine. I turned my head just in time to see that Bink was already handing his bowl to the guy.

On the downside, Bink abused a social norm. On the upside, he couldn't possibly have known he was doing it. Also on the upside, at least the boy was listening! I'll take what I can get.

And by the way, the steak was grilled to perfection and covered in garlic butter. Delicious.

I guess I should have mentioned that as well...

Uggh. I drilled at that last faucet handle all stinking day long. Well, not literally, because if you don't take a break and let the equipment cool off from time to time the drill bit -- no matter how good it is -- will snap and then you'll find yourself in an emergency room with half of a drill bit in your shoulder. Or your eye. And I really don't want to spend my week off in the hospital.

Of course, for that matter, I didn't want to spend my week drilling on a chrome fixture and opening up holes in the kitchen ceiling either. So you see what my wishes are worth...

I looked for my best drill bits and was nearly shocked to death when they were exactly where I thought I'd put them. I should be so lucky with everything else. But even these expensive, hard-core bits need time to cool: so I'd drill for about 3 minutes and have to wait about 20 minutes in order to try and avoid a life-changing injury.

See, the problem is two-fold: first, the set-screw is stripped so I can't get it disconnected as easily as the others went. Second, I can't grab my sawzall because I'll probably shear off the valve if I do - which will mean the water will have to be turned off for about 5 hours while I replace it, (which, who's to say it won't need to be now?). Thirdly (??), while the fixture is lightweight chrome, the set-screw itself is steel; thereby increasing the speed, strength and time necessary to drill through it. It's a huge mess.

During the bits' cooling off period I would check email, feed cats, wander aimlessly, eat stuff I really shouldn't HAVE, (Sorry, but I LOATHE people who type, "should OF," so I made a point of it. I even once chastised a syndicated cartoonist for using it. Really.), and went downstairs to cut yet another hole in the ceiling. The goal was to attack the problem from both ends: if I could get into the wall behind the shower fixtures, (which already showed signs of being patched), and I could get into the ceiling beneath the bath, (which already showed signs of being patched), I would probaby have a better chance of applying a more permanent remedy.

So now I have a half-drilled set screw, a hot drill bit, (YOU'RE TELLING ME!), a larger hole in my kitchen ceiling, drywall in my eyes and an asthmatic cough like nothing I've had before. Coughing up martians, I am. But I'm no closer to finding a cure for the drip coming down into the kitchen.

Well, maybe I am but I just don't want to think about it too much because the information I think I'm digesting is probably leading to a much larger project.

Ah well, nothing I didn't expect, I suppose...

Did you see - well, the two big, recent news stories? Actually there was a third, but it was only "news" if you pay no attention to anything so let's start with that one: Consumer Confidence took a HUGE FRAPPIN' DROP according to recent data, (no news to at least one of you). In this case I go back to my jobs rule: the gubermint has PROMISED to raise taxes on both individuals and the imaginary construct called 'corporations,' has sworn to send health insurance premiums through the roof, at least double energy costs with cap-n-trade, increase tariffs -- all of which will likely add to the cost of EVERYTHING we buy, and then the "smartest people in the room" can't figure out why the American people aren't real confident about buying stuff.

Jeez. How is this not THE MOST OBVIOUS THING THESE MORONS HAVE EVER SEEN?!?

Thanks again, people.

Good news at The Stonestead tonight: of course, Tuesdays are our busiest nights lately - what with both The Knuckleheads AND MLD going to their Karate classes, we're pretty much rushed to pick them up, rushed through dinner, rushed to Karate, rushed through any baths and rushed to bed. At least the kids are rushed into bed; Mommy & Daddy still have miles to go before we sleep.

But tonight My Lovely Daughter (MLD), earned her fourth black stripe and her red stripe. Wednesday she needs to earn her blue stripe and her white stripe and then she'll be allowed to test for her orange belt. I'm not surprised because she's been doing wonderfully from the very first instant she took the floor, but her instructor WAS a bit surprised.

MLD was all set to test in March, but instead she'll test this weekend. And she'll get her orange belt.

I couldn't be more proud...

Thanks for tuning in everyone who did, but I'm taking advantage of this night off and a tomorrow alone by staying up to watch a movie and possibly "take care" of The Wif. Oh, and I caught some Dom Irrera via You Tube after putting the monsters to bed so it's already been a productive night, I guess. But only in a rather un-productive way.

OH! But before I go, I should say that we went to sign loan documents today in the hopes of getting away from the idiots who currently service our loan. The numbers seem high, but in today's environment apparently the loan originator is responsible for any shortages, so now they're guessing high. See? Build a gubermint solution and the market responds accordingly. They're so much smarter than gubermint...

I have every faith that even though we're moving into a shorter term, the payment is certain to be manageable. And if we can fully fund the kids' college funds each year (we can), and set aside extra payments we can have the house paid for before MLD goes out to use that college fund.

You cannot possibly imagine how much I'd love to see that happen.

So that's fun. Plus The Wif's SUV is in the shop an needs about $1600 in repairs and we'll get it back - well, not Tuesday, that's for sure. But eventually; once the work is done and the debit card is swiped and we can find the time to go get it and baboons learn to type and coffee is discovered to cure Irritable Bowel Syndrome and restless legs finally find rest. Or something like that.

Anyway, we're off to Karate tonight and I still need to take the last handle off the bathtub deal-y to affect a fix. I think I'll pop it off with a couple of big screwdrivers as a last resort, but I have to do something.

And something I will...

Ahhhh... ... . I'm on leave this week. This is a strange happening since I have only taken any time off when the kids moved in. I usually take a Monday here or a Friday there - wrapped around a Holiday or my regular day off to maximize my time and minimize my leave - and I had intended to work like crazy; The Wif was scheduled to be in training in Baltimore, (which would make it rather difficult for her to get our daughter to school), so I just took the leave.

And all of this is aside from the fact that her training was canceled. But did I cancel my leave? WHAT ARE YOU, CRAZY?!? OF COURSE I DIDN'T CANCEL MY LEAVE!! I now, finally, have leave to burn and I'm frankly rather tired of giving hours back at the end of the year. So let's take care of it early on, right?

So I'm off until the 2^nd of March. What will I do, what will I do?

Oh, Wait: I'll pick up my daughter from school on Monday (today), Friday and maybe next Monday, (we'll have to see the schedule) and then next Friday. And then the Friday after next when we'll go to the bank to get the cash for the next two weeks - since all the payments have been made or scheduled - and then run any errands that might need to be ran.

Speaking of which, we were running errands last Friday; to the bank and then to the store to pick up bread and something I don't remember. The funny thing here is that I remember the thing I forgot to pickup, but I forget the thing I remembered to pickup. Which is a long way of saying that I forgot to pickup the bread. But I have an excuse. A perfectly acceptable excuse...

On my way through the store with MLD, she noted several pink ribbons on the products. She of course then asked me what they were for. I'm sure I groaned aloud, but then I asked her if she remembered what killed Grandpa. "Cancer," she said. So it was a bad ending but a good place to start.

"OK," I said, "there's a type of cancer that hits women right here," I said, pointing to my pec, (and yes I know men can get it too, but let's just address the question at hand, shall we?), and said that, "the pink ribbons are there to make people more aware and donate more money to find a cure for breast cancer." YES. I felt I had to use the word: I'm the DAD, after all, right?

And then I wanted to crawl into a cave and die. She's already 8 years old; these things are coming more quickly than I want to admit. And given the early onset of puberty these days, I have already asked The Wif if she's ready to talk to MLD about those things. And she'll have to be the one to talk about those things to her.

Because I'll be in Argentina. That'll burn another week of leave...

...

And on another note, we took D-Man to MLD's former counselor on Saturday to try and figure out if his anger is hereditary. Or what else might be going on with him. The funny thing is, ever since he knew he was going, he's been wonderful. Charming. Joyful. Which tells me he's smarter than we could ever believe he is. Which is really saying something.

We spent time with him, us and the social worker in her office finding something to do and explaining the situation and getting feedback. I introduced him to Tiddly-winkys via a set of checkers. I was asked how I discipline, (Answer: the "Daddy Look."), plus I count to three.

Of course, I rarely get past 1 before I see results. Mommy counts to five and then her first response is the time-out chair while I give the 1-count before asking the boys if they want me to race them to their room. And if I beat them there, I'll beat them there. It's a bit of a difference in approaches, to say the least.

Well. *SIGH* In a rare event in this modern world of mine, a woman actually agreed with me in a strange kind of way; she asked me how I discipline and I told her. She asked how I would explain things, (briefly, that is), and I told her, "That was wrong because we don't hurt other people," or "we don't break their things."

So the long and the short is that SHE is expected to be more like me: The Wif was told to try being the "bad Cop" with our oldest son and I'm doing my best to lay off. But I really can't; he started acting up tonight and I had to stop him. I then had to introduce my "new" partner and have her explain the rules: she counts to TWO! before "things happen."

Let me tell you: it's as difficult for me to lay off as it is for her to step up. I'm going to derive a system where I can put up one finger somewhere behind my head - like a Cops' drug bust - so that she'll know to start counting.

Let's hope it works.

So. It's Friday and welcome to it, (name the reference, I dare you). But this is like the King Hell Friday of the year so far, because I won't have to work again until March 2nd. A Tuesday during my short week, so I'll at least get a soft landing when I have to return (God willing). We'll see what comes what may, right?

The Wif was supposed to be traveling out east for training, so I scheduled all of next week for leave for strategic kid purposes, (name THAT reference!). Turns out that she's not welcome there so she'll be here pulling regular duties as I'm off next week.

dagnabbit...

Well, no. I'll need her here for input as the large rebuild project begins; in order to shutdown the leak currently infesting the kitchen I'll need to strip the shower bare, solder in a new valve, cut out the drywall and call someone to make another patch, (I HATE drywall. I'm sure I've just said that, but I HATE drywall. HATE! IT!). Plus, I'll have to climb into the ceiling where it's obvious someone has already done the same, which really ticks me off: COULDN'T YOU IDIOTS DO IT RIGHT THE FIRST TIME?!?

No matter; on to lighter matters for now. You'll get updates here if you want them...

J.O.T.W.:
An early tribute

Reilly is walking through a graveyard when he comes across a headstone with the inscription "Here lies a politician and an honest man."
'Faith now,' exclaims Reilly, 'I wonder how they got the two of them in one grave?'

O'Toole and his wife are in bed one night and they hear the neighbour's dog is barking its head off in the garden. Somewhat disturbed by the noise, O'Toole explodes, 'Botheration and that!' and storms off downstairs.
He comes back upstairs five minutes later and his wife asks, 'What did you do, O'Toole?'
O'Toole replies with a wide grin, 'I've put the dog in our garden so I did, now let's see how they like it.'

Donncha is shocked at finding out all his cows are suffering from "Bluetongue." 'Bejabbers,' Donncha murmurs, 'I didn't even know they had mobile phones.'

Gallagher is in Boston and he is waiting patiently, also, he is watching the traffic cop on a busy street crossing.
The cop stops the flow of traffic and shouts, 'Okay pedestrians'.
Then he allows the traffic to pass. He did this several times, and Gallagher is still standing on the sidewalk.
After the cop has shouted 'Pedestrians' for the tenth time, Gallagher approaches him and says, 'Is it not about time ye let the Catholics across?'

Why do you Irish always answer a question with a question?' asked President Franklin D. Roosevelt.
'Do we now?' came New York Mayor Al Smith's reply.

Finnegan sells Michael a donkey, some weeks later they met in a pub in Killarney and Michael says, 'Hey, Finnegan, that donkey you sold me went and died.'
Finnegan just sips his Guinness slowly and retorts, 'Bejabbers, Michael, it never done that on me.'

Murphy lost a hundred dollars on the Melbourne Cup, a famous Australian horserace. He also lost another hundred on the television replay.

Kieran O'Connor always slept with his gun under his pillow. Hearing a noise at the foot of the bed, he shot off his big toe.
'Thank the Lord I wasn't sleeping at the other end of the bed,' Kieran said to his friends in Donegal's pub. 'I would have blown my head off.'

O'Gara was arrested and sent for trial for armed bank robbery.
After due deliberation, the jury foreman stood up and announced, 'Not guilty.'
'That's grand,' shouted O'Gara, 'Does that mean I get to keep the money?'

'Ah, that was a lovely dress,' announced Colleen, 'and it would have fitted me if I could have got into it, so it would.'

I had to take my laptop into the office with me today, because the encryption was about to lock things up tighter than a drum, (tomorrow), if it didn't "check in." I've been trying for at least a week to get a "check in" but with no results. My only reasonable answer to this was to continue trying to reset the service that manages that in the hopes that the client (software), would eventually check in with the Mothership. So to speak.

No such luck: I reset and reset, rebooted and rebooted, stopped and started the service again and again, downloaded and tried the utility that's supposed to force a check in only to have all of them fail again and again. Once it was hard-wired to the network in the office I expected easy success.

Well, I was half-right. Maybe...

Logon after logon and attempt after attempt seemed to yield no fruit. It still wouldn't work and was telling me it would lock up after noon today. THIS. I. NEED.

And then somehow, someway, after a reboot the message went away. Now, this happened just after a co-worker of mine - who was working on me with this problem - sent off a help ticket request to The Powers That Be. Meaning that they'll contact me today and I get to look like an idiot by saying, "it's all taken care of! Thanks!" But that's still much better than not having it work at all, right? I now have until mid-May...

Is Iraq REALLY a credit to the little o's administration? I mean, he opposed the war, spoke out against the war, opposed the surge and is now taking credit for the success? Really?!?

In the same spirit, I'd like to claim credit for my part in planning the invasion of D-Day, the creation of Facebook and cold-fusion. It's just a shame that I'm too busy at the moment to duplicate the cold-fusion results. And it's certainly not MY fault that other people are too stupid to reliably reproduce my studies. I mean, am I supposed to hold everyone's hand as they do this?

Similarly, I'd love to hear an update as to what algore has to say about "global warming." Aside from, "step away from the tarmac, my private jet is about to take off," given the recent global cooling that's confounding everyone from every state except Hawaii. Do we really need three inches of snow on a Honolulu beach before he says "I'll cash this last check and then go away?"

Yeah. I don't believe that'll happen either. (Him leaving, that is)...

And from things that might confound but don't: Has anyone else taken note of how many dems are retiring but - as far as I know - not a single Repub has stepped down? Oh sure 'snarlin' arlin' has taken the jeffords course and jumped ship but it won't help him any. The kennedys are finally out of power and with any luck have realized that it's all OVER!

So what comes next? Well, we'll know soon enough as Mr. 43% announces his next policy policy.

I am SO looking forward to it...

Well, well. After asking y'all not to say anything outloud obviously someone did. Because I was jinxed in a serious way...

It was my telecommuting day which means that I get about an hour more (much needed) sleep than I usually get. Even given my recent early-morning coughing fits that keep me awake, that extra hour is pure, sweet, honey. And I look forward to it every week. (This is what my life has become.)

So you can imagine my shock when The Wif shook me to life early yesterday - and not in the way I would have scripted it. Because she immediately told me that the ceiling in the kitchen was leaking water and the entire kitchen counter was wet. She reported that the area in front of the coffee maker was soaked and moved things around to compensate for such.

My first thought was, "what level of new Hell is this?" My next thought was that I'd have to hunt down the one of you who who said "plumber" outloud after yesterday's post. Next, I thought, "HA HA! I can do most of that work myself and so I shall!!"

First problem: cutting open the ceiling. Second problem: doing a "correct repair" on the whole system. Third problem: repairing the hole in the ceiling. Now, I can do plumbing -- I'm actually quite good at most of it -- but I hate drywall. I LOATHE drywall. Drywall is the Devil's work and I want nothing to do with it.

Loads of interesting things enter in at this point. First, there is already a patched spot in the ceiling where this leak is happening. So someone else was already up there. Second, there are only 3 possible sources of a leak once you isolate the culprit; the drain - which will only leak when there's water being drained. The shower/bath valve in this case since it's the kids' bathtub in question, or the water feeds. We'll see once I open it up.

Another interesting thing is that the kids' shower is all tile, EXCEPT for the piece of plywood that encases the valves for the bath/shower. Given a plywood patch there and a drywall patch in the ceiling below, I'm pretty sure there's already been a problem. Just a guess on my part...

I'll now get to find some kind of time (LORD knows where), to cut open the ceiling, climb up there, find and fix the problem, (but I'll get to use FIRE!), and then bring someone in to fix the bloody drywall. And while I'm at it, I'll cut out the other damaged area in the ROOM THAT SHALL NOT BE ENTERED and have them do both. As well as check out our shower from the business end of things. Should be fun!!

I'm so looking forward to it all.

In political news, evan bayh - the senator from Indiana - is the latest dem to decide not to run for re-election. THIS was a surprise. Even and perhaps especially to those of us who follow politics closely. It's amazing how the little o and Slow-Joe have completely tarnished the brand. Of course, they had help from "scary harry" and "san fran nan," but it's a rather remarkable achievement.

I mean, teddy's seat was lost in a special election. The little o's seat is running in the negatives and Slow-Joe's seat is all but lost. THIS is what Mr. Hopey-McChange promised? Great by me! Bring on some more!! And if Kall-if-Foar-nee-A can get rid of barbara, "dumb as a box of rocks" boxer, it'll mean an early Christmas!

The challenge then lies in the next 11 months: the time between now and when the next congress is seated: can this massive spending, unimaginable debt and uncontrollable takeovers be reigned in? Is it even possible to slow this bobsled of spending, (to use an olypics term - UGH), before we're all crashed on the rails, slide off into the crowd and burst into flames, killing them all?

I'm still holding my breath...

So I had to work Friday, (Oh you poor baby. How ever did you manage? Shut up, you.), but I was obviously off on Monday. So this obviously means that I obviously got to sleep in and take it easy, right?

Well, yes and no. My asthma has been just ridiculously obnoxious lately and I've been losing a whole bunch of sleep. In return, The Wif, (Bless her soul), has allowed me to sleep in when I'm able to and that includes this long weekend. While I might be awake at three A.M., she allowed me to stay asleep at nine A.M..

She's just the best. And the fooling around was gravy...

But. BUT! THINGS MUST GET DONE! So I started on things. On Saturday I installed a new light fixture in the kitchen. On Sunday I installed a second, (different) new light fixture in the kitchen. Two days, two chances to sleep in and two new light fixtures. Not everything that might be expected, but 2 of the 3 electrical jobs were completed. And apparently to favorable reviews. ON TO SOMETHING NEW!

So Monday saw me moving valves. But I should probably backup just a bit...

Last year we had an electrician, a garage-door guy and then this year a furnace guy and an appliance repair guy out here. I'm beginning to wonder who else is left, (and DON'T SAY the obvious: I can do most of that kind of work and you wouldn't want to jinx us, would you?).

Anyway, when the appliance repair guy came out, he determined that the outlet the dishwasher was plugged into, (I thought they were all hard-wired too!), was dead, but the circuit was still working. I'd checked the circuit but hadn't considered that there was an outlet back there. Fortunately, he was also an electrician and ran some checks and checked some wires. After deciding it was hopeless unless he broke through our cabinet, I ran an extension cord through the floor and plugged it into an outlet in the basement. JUST IN CASE.

At about that time he told me that there was electricity at the outlet again. We agreed to plug the dishwasher back in and LET 'ER RIP! It worked. Beautiful. Cost us only 92 dollars, too. A bargain at twice the price so I was happy. Well, pleased, at least.

Except for the fact that he also told me the dishwasher feed line was connected to the cold water line, (Drunken-Hippie Construction CO. strikes again!), and since it had to heat the water to temperature, that would cause extra electricity and time to be spent. In a related story, The Wif asked me if I'd asked the appliance guy about the length of the washer's cycle. I told her I didn't have to ask.

Guess what my job was on Monday?

The van was at the shop, so The Wif asked if I wanted company while visiting the orange-themed big box near our home. I said that, no, I'd rather just get in, get my answer or hardware and get to work. Disgruntled, she said that she and the kids would just "stay put" then, but had hoped to do something fun with the kids today. I suggested a trip to Hobby Lobby and then lunch at that Scottish Place - MacDougals. She sort of winced.

She then suggested that I take them to the MacDougals near where I was going, then get was I was going for, then re-join them there. I said we could do that, but I'd like to get the Truck out since it's been sitting idle for a few days. She looked at me. She tilted her head and looked confused...

Suddenly her face brightened: she had forgotten that even with the van in the shop we still had two workable vehicles available, so I could do my thing and she could take the little monsters anywhere she chose to, (so long as it wasn't the kitchen - lest they expand their vocabulary in ways neither of us want). She decided to take them to lunch at that Scottish place - a different one - and then to a smaller Children's Museum up north. Fine. Fine, wonderful.

I, on the other hand, had to empty out the cabinet under the kitchen sink. I found many things that were misplaced, spoiled, empty or malfunctioning. ALL GONE. I found moisture, (never a good sign), and stains that indicate I'll be under there again, soon, (Dagnabbit). And I found that the pipes aren't affixed to anything in the walls.

I removed the hoses from the valves but couldn't remove the valves from the pipes. Tried a wrench, tried a pliers. No go. Off to Orange Box.

Asked a guy and he said that a loose valve is not exactly what you want under the sink. I agreed, (I should note that one of the reasons I wanted to change the valves is because one was exceedingly difficult to close), and he said to lube the stem so that it might move more freely. Great in theory, but I had to switch them, for Pete's sake!

I went home and got back under the sink. Tried the wrench; no go. Tried the pliers; no go. Then I tried them both; and it started to move. I removed that valve, set it aside and started on the other one. Fortunately, that one came off rather easily. I then took it back to Orange Box to try to replace the valve but it was another no-go. The third, (there was a second trip in there I won't bore you with), trip where I found that we have yet another non-standard instrument in this house, I resigned myself to using the valves we have now, just in different locations.

Back under the sink I taped things up, tightened things up and my work looks pretty good: no leaks (knock wood) and the dishwasher cycle is running at least 1/2 hour less than it used to. It's something, but not as good as I expected.

So the next step? Well, I'll have to run the electrical line to a new J-Box. But if I pull that dishwasher out in order to do that, we'll have a new dishwasher before it's all over.

One The Wif picks out, natch...

I have to admit that I hate - no, LOATHE - "President's Day." As most everyone knows, the traditional "Lincoln's Birthday" celebration and "Washington's Birthday" holiday were merged into the rather useless "President's day" some time ago. Such utter dreck that is. Only because they were born in calendrical proximity, suddenly I'm expected to remember and honor jimmah carter with the same reverence I hold for Washington, Jefferson, Jackson, Lincoln, Roosevelt, (the good one), and Reagan?

A pox on their house should that be expected of me, I say...

So for you regular schlubs out there who are going to be working today, I'm sorry. You should get a job with the federal gubermint, (I hear they're hiring). But get out there and do your best today knowing that you're carrying the full weight of the American economy on your shoulders. Thanks!

And for you federal workers out there, (who will be reading this on Tuesday, once you're back on the clock), I hope you enjoy your day off. It's the last one for a very long time.

Me? I'll either be cleaning up our storage area or climbing under a sink to move the dishwasher water-line, install a new electrical line and put in a new faucet. So it won't exactly be a day "off," will it.

But what the heck -- I've already installed two new light fixtures in the kitchen this weekend; may as well finish it all out, right?

And in the spirit of St. Valentines' Day...

WHAT A WIFE SAYS...AND ACTUALLY MEANS

The wife says: You want
The wife means: You want

The wife says: We need
The wife means: I want

The wife says: It's your decision
The wife means: The correct decision should be obvious

The wife says: Do what you want
The wife means: You'll pay for this later

The wife says: We need to talk
The wife means: I need to complain

The wife says: Sure... go ahead
The wife means: I don't want you to

The wife says: I'm not upset
The wife means: Of course I'm upset you moron

The wife says: You're ... so manly
The wife means: You need a shave and sweat a lot

The wife says: Be romantic, turn out the lights
The wife means: I have flabby thighs.

The wife says: This kitchen is so inconvenient
The wife means: I want a new house.

The wife says: I want new curtains.
The wife means: Also carpeting, furniture, and wallpaper!

The wife says: I need wedding shoes.
The wife means: The other forty pairs are the wrong shade of white.

The wife says: Hang the picture there
The wife means: No, I mean hang it there!

The wife says: I heard a noise
The wife means: I noticed you were almost asleep.

The wife says: Do you love me?
The wife means: I'm going to ask for something expensive.

The wife says: How much do you love me?
The wife means: I did something today you're not going to like.

The wife says: I'll be ready in a minute.
The wife means: Kick off your shoes and take an hour nap.

The wife says: Am I fat?
The wife means: Tell me I'm beautiful.

The wife says: You have to learn to communicate.
The wife means: Just agree with me.

The wife says: Are you listening to me?
The wife means: [Too late, you're doomed.]

The wife says: Yes
The wife means: No

The wife says: No
The wife means: No

The wife says: Maybe
The wife means: No

The wife says: I'm sorry
The wife means: You'll be sorry

The wife says: Do you like this recipe?
The wife means: You better get used to it

The wife says: All we're going to buy is a soap dish
The wife means: I'm coming back with enough to fill this place.

The wife says: Was that the baby?
The wife means: Get out of bed and feed him

The wife says: I'm not yelling!
The wife means: Yes I am! I think this is important!

In answer to the question "What's wrong?"

The wife says: The same old thing.
The wife means: Nothing.

The wife says: Nothing.
The wife means: Everything.

The wife says: Nothing, really.
The wife means: It's just that you're an idiot.

The wife says: I don't want to talk about it.
The wife means: I'm still building up steam.

So some moron from the little o's moronic administration is defending the decision to 'Mirandize' the so-called, "underpants bomber." Flippin' brilliant; we all know how it goes, right? "You have the right to remain silent. If you surrender that right, anything you say can be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney and to have an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you free of charge."

And then the police have to ask, "do you understand these rights as I've read them to you?" As concerns foreign combatants, YES. Of COURSE they understand these rights! That's why they're here!

Then the police - or in this case the US Military - have to ask, "Is there anything you'd like to tell us about any planned attacks against our country?"

WHAT.

THE.

HELL?

YOU JUST TOLD HIM HE DIDN'T HAVE TO SAY ANYTHING, YOU IDIOT!! Moe Howard is spinning in his grave because he never imagined this bit of comedy would come true. This krep would put "Who's on first?" completely out of the public's mind. "Keep quiet, here's your free lawyer who's telling you to keep quiet and when the gubermint officials ask you just say, "No habla."

Frickin' beautiful. And these are the guys YOU guys voted in to keep us safe? Yeah - great foresight...

In kid news, the nightly, family "work-offs," (as Bink calls them), are really showing results. I'm back to where I can once again do pushups with a child sitting on my back. (Mommy actually sounded, Um, impressed, if you get my drift). Bink is starting to get the idea of what a pushup is and is learning that it's not just nodding your head or bending your waist to get them done. MLD is asking me to make sure that her back is straight and Mommy went from doing "girl pushups" to "boy pushups." So we're all making progress and all is better all 'round.

We started with 5 jumping jacks, 5 situps and 5 pushups - all in a different order each night - and we're now up to 10 jumping jacks. I suspect that I'll have to institute a regime whereby we all do our work-offs, and then each kid gets a turn riding on Daddy's back for the 5 pushup ride. I've already done the heaviest and the lightest, so I'm sure I can do the middle-est.

This is getting fun...

Boy, oh boy. Lots of stuff to report vis-a-vis the television. First off, D-Man continues to make my head spin; the other day we were watching "Cops" when a commercial for "Ocean Force," (or whatever it's called), featuring young females dressed in currently-acceptable beachware was shown. Of course, I heard the usual, "OH, SWEET!" as the bikinis were jiggling across the screen.

Sheesh. I remember getting an early start on the whole thing, but at 5 years old?!? I think he's on the fast-track or something. We'll have to keep an eye on him for the next, OH, 30 years or so. Sure, I could give him tips-N-tricks on how to snare the prey. I could tell him what to say, (this is starting to sound like a song). I could tell him to hang out at the local shopping center because they have both a craft store ("sensitive guy") and a planned parenthood ("I screw around"), but if I want my daughter treated with respect then I have to teach my Knuckleheads to treat girls with respect. If only so I can look at myself in the mirror each morning, but especially in the hope that they'll respect her enough to protect her.

(Sheesh; what is this, verse 2?)

The final game of the football season is over and done and I don't know what else I can say about it that hasn't already been said, (I won't give the name of the game for fear of copyright lawsuits), except to say that it was just an awesome game. Great action and I told The Wif very early on that it would come down to defense. And so it did. I'm not sure that a single interception has so changed the course of a championship game (copyright, remember?) the way that one did. But it was a heck of a lot of fun to watch.

I'm surprised I didn't have a Knucklehead in my lap throughout the whole thing, frankly...

And speaking of the television, has it really been a full day since I saw the little o jump through my screen? He's falling off schedule. And are the lefties really in an uproar because Sarah had 4 words written on her hand? REALLY?!? Listen; I far prefer a speaker who can give an entire speech from a 4 word outline to one who simply reads speeches from teleprompters and pronounces 'corpsman' as "corpse-man," as the little o did recently.

Twice. In the same sentence. Yeah -- he's the smartest guy in the room. ("ATTACK OF THE CORPSE-MEN!" sounds like a cool movie, but I think Romero's got the thing covered.)

I also saw a movie called, "100 Feet" recently that didn't completely bite the wax tadpole. In short, Dr. Jean Grey kills her abusive husband then has to kill his ghost. A bit campy and there's one scene where bones are forced into directions they're not designed to go - and I can't stand to watch THAT kind of stuff - but otherwise it was OK. Not everyone out there, (or perhaps anyone out there), will like it, but it's not all that bad.

Likewise, I saw "Surrogates" last weekend. I put it in my queue without realizing Bruce Willis was in it, otherwise I wouldn't have ordered it. Not that I mind Bruce - I think he's a great actor - but he's too mainstream for my taste. If he's in a movie then I know they don't walk too far off the beam. And this movie delivered exactly that.

It's not terrible, but it's nothing you'd email home about; utterly predictable and rather '1984-ish' as well as trying too hard to be a social commentary. In general? Meh. I'd say skip it, but since I'm usually the last one to see a new release, I'd guess the victims are already out there. Check it out at your own risk.

Man. What a long, long weekend it was. (Not that I'm complaining, except that I am.) First off, our dishwasher is dead and refuses to even appear at a seance. THAT'S how dead it is. Added to that is the fact that we had 4 extra adults for dinner on Friday night. Added to that is the fact that The Wif had to run off to the vet Up The Hill and I had D-Man here with me on my day off. Added to that is the fact that The Wif "had" to stop at several stores along the way back so Bink could "take care of some personal business." (yeah, sure.) Added to that was the fact that the menu consisted of pork ribs that had to be prepped, grilled, (turning every 15 minutes), then prepped and baked for 3 hours. Then - since the dishwasher was broken - I had to take steps to get things ready to be hand-washed.

And that was just Friday, but it was a good time.

Saturday seemed unusually long, but only because I and the elder two children were running all over town to fulfill our list: Sam's Club, Wally-World and King's before we got home. The kids got to relax in their room while I unloaded and stored our goods, when a surprise appeared: my folks. Now, they're always welcome here but I had NO idea they were on their way, so it was a bit odd to see. Turns out they were returning MLD's coat that she had left in their car.

See, my folks take MLD to karate on Thursdays, so she had occasion to leave things in their car. I'd rather not have her forget her things, natch, but whaddyagonnado? I'm just completely grateful that my folks are there when we need them. Couldn't be any better at it, frankly.

The rest of the day saw me doing the dishes from Friday night, (or most of them, anyway), lying down for about a half-hour and then preparing dinner. I'm beginning to get used to this, but I certainly want the dishwasher back in working order. I'm sure there was an ad Way Back When that touted the "Modern Living" aspects of an automatic dishwasher. I'm also very, very sure that it was right. Hand-washing dishes just stinks.

Then, on Sunday I move the 4X into the driveway so we can drive it to church since it's snowing, load up the coats, start the vehicle, put the birthday presents and backpack containing the Gi's into the back, build and eat a sausage-muffin...

But I should back up.

At exactly 12:39 on Sunday morning I climbed out of bed because I wasn't sleeping and had some lyrics running through my mind. I decided to write them down, so I turned on my computer, natch, (that's how I know what time it was). I wrote down what was running through my mind, printed it out, made sure the camera was charging and climbed back into bed to not sleep some more. Because that's how I do things.

I gave the print-out to The Wif the next morning and never heard another thing about it. Grand. I then took a few minutes and placed the chorus' where I thought they belonged and printed another copy. I folded that, placed it in my chest pocket, grabbed the camera and headed downstairs to get everyone ready to go, plus some breakfast for myself.

Once at church - a long, late, troubled journey - the Padre, (as I call him but he's actually the Family Pastor), said he enjoyed my Facebook update. You know, the one that said: MUST. NOT. KILL. BOY. Yes, the Family Pastor said he enjoyed it. And he has a newborn boy. "Just Wait."

Anyway, I gave him the print of the lyrics, (I don't believe them to be "mine"), and said that if he wants to do something with them he was welcome to, because he was a serious musician whereas I'm just a goofball. I also told him that if he wanted to toss them away he could do that, too. I don't expect a top 40 hit from it all, but if it reaches even one, it will make a difference.

After church - and noticing the really sweet, new, cool LCD screens in the lobby - we headed down the mountain. Stopping for lunch at the usual place, we showed up about 10 minutes late, but the kids were in their gi's. They did Kenpo Karate - which is not what they're used to - and played some different games, because it was (obviously) a different school and a different teacher in a different town with a different form since we were going to a birthday party. The birthday party of the son of My Israeli Brother, to be exact.

They practiced the basics for some time, working on kicks and the like, (PROUD AS HELL! To say that MLD was the best and the only one who held her hands in place and did her HI-YAH'S! as they were supposed to. My chest is bursting), then played a game of 'don't fall off the roof.' The idea is that the teacher and his assistant would approach the kids with a pad and try to force the kids off the red area of the mat and onto the blue area. If you could kick the pad, that would stop the "attack."

D-Man was the last standing of his group twice - and I honestly believe that got him targeted by the instructors. So what? You win some you lose some, right? Well, once pushed off the "roof" he decided to whine and complain and try to say that he HAD kicked the bag, but the teacher had told him to sit down because he was out.

He kept whining. And whining.

Until I was sick of it. I told him to sit down. He whined. I told him to come to me. He (perhaps wisely), refused. I insisted and he finally came to sit down near me. AND THEN! he whined again. I took him to sit with Mommy. He fussed. Once there, Mommy asked what was going on and I gave her the thumbnail. He then whined again. Mommy picked him up to hug him and... AND!! he hit her. Yes, he actually "karate chopped" her.

So I gently reminded him that whatever he does to Mommy he does to me and gave him a light smack across the shoulder. He had a fit, (Mommy did too, actually, which I'll never understand), and then was removed to be placed in the car.

I sat in there with him as he took off his gi and put it away. I gave him small, short lectures instead of the 20 mintues of yelling we used to get and told him that if he quit crying and having baby-fits he could go back in for cake. He eventually calmed down and I said that he'd have to apologize to Mommy and our hostess for ruining everything. I'm not sure what finally got through to him, but he finally caught on and we headed back inside.

Cake was had and all seemed well. Until we came home and he was sitting on his younger brother's head. No Snack, red dots all 'round, no book, no video. We'll be calling the therapist today. I mean, it's not like we can take away his Playstation. Because he doesn't have one. So we have to assume that anger could be genetic and he'll need treatment now so it doesn't become a problem for him in the future.

I hope...

Well, we're finally here and as I tweeted today, I couldn't be happier that it's my day off. I'm so happy, in fact, that I'm fearing tomorrow/today: D-Man is going to miss movie night. Could be an interesting time round the ol Stonestead. He'll be stuck in his own room - due to his own bad behavior - while the rest of us lie down in our bed and watch a movie. Hate to do it, but Have to do it.

And! Now that I've set the mood: The Joke Of The Week!!

Two guys are talking about their boss's upcoming wedding. One guy says, "It's ridiculous, he's rich, but he's 95 years old, and she's just 24! What kind of a wedding is that?"

The other says, "Well, we have a name for it in my family."

"What do you call it?"

"We call it a football wedding."

The first asks, "What's a football wedding?"

The other says, "She's waiting for him to kick off!"

OY. I just don't know what we're going to do with D-Man. Throw him out the window, perhaps, (of course not). He's developed a very serious, detrimental and aggressive attitude; he hits, kicks, throws things and then excuses himself by saying, "I said 'I'm sorry'." Well, that ain't going to cut it, mister.

In fact, Bink has reported many "wrongs" done against him by his older brother - as is the younger brother's wont - and in most cases I'll just say, "do it back to him," or "ignore it." (Neither one is a Mommy-approved answer, BTW) So aside from teaching the boys not to kill each other - or at least do so quietly depending on whom you ask - we've also been trying to teach the kids to say "I'm sorry" when accidental contact occurs.

The problem we're facing now is that the kids think that saying, "I'm sorry," is the great eraser, no matter what you've done. We're trying to teach the difference between intentional actions and accidental actions. We may not be doing the best job, as we learned recently...

As I said, Bink is a tattle-tale; if one of his siblings steps on an ant, we're going to hear about it. I'd like to think it's a phase but he's always been this way, so I think we're pretty much stuck with it for some time to come. Anyway, as they were putting on 'jammies' the other night, I heard from Bink that D-Man had yelled at him. Now, I was in the next room and didn't hear D-Man yell, so I was about to tell Bink to "stow it" and that his brother could call him a ham sandwich and it wouldn't make him a ham sandwich.

When he struck. In a fit of pique D-Man told me, "I said I'm sorry," and then yelled at me, "SO WHAT?!?"

Well. Anyone who knows me even a whit will recognize that I'm not going to let this pint-sized orange belt get away with that kind of krep. He was immediately disallowed "snack," got a "red dot," (3 of those in a week and you lose movie night), and was walked back into his closet by a rather perturbed Father. So he learned his lesson, right?

Err, no. Tonight at "snack" he started talking back in anger. TO. ME. I sent him to bed and he started dancing on the tile floor on which he knows he should not be dancing. I counted him out: "ONE!" he ran out of the room and I followed him. "TWO!" He ran up the stairs and I threatened to follow him, (give me a break - it was a long day). I soon heard the door close and knew that he was finally smart enough to get his tiny little butt in bed.

I let him stew for a couple of minutes and then went up. He was sitting up in his bed. Yes; sitting up. I gave him the "Dad" lecture about behaving and following the rules, (I STILL can't belive that I'M the Dad), and "getting your act together."

He sat.

He stewed.

He looked mad.

He was told to lie down. And then he threw himself onto his bed. That's when the spankings started. Four, to be exact.

We tried it anew, I covered him with his blanket and he went out very quickly. He's earned another red dot, so he'll be exempted from movie night, but maybe that and the threat of being removed from karate will help to correct his attitude.

But even if that works, I wonder for how long that will work. In another 8 years he may be completely out of control. Perhaps anger CAN be inherited through DNA...?

Not to compare children - in the least - I sometimes have Bink or MLD or D-Man in my lap if I can find time to sit down in the evening and they're not due at some other activity. By nature, MLD is much more still and sometimes likes the occasional tickle. D-Man LOVES to be tickled and will frequently ask for it; squealing like a stuck pig when I do, but loving every minute of it. Bink? Not so much. He's all about proving that he's stronger than Daddy, (and may be very soon), so we wrestle and play a game of "push-hands" where he tries to pin my hands to the back of my chair. Of course, if I win, he goes off the chair and onto the floor.

Of course, I'm still able to win, so the little guy goes "clunk."

He then climbs back on my lap and asks, "why did you push me?" I tell him, "because you pushed me first." He then smiles the most adorable smile ever created and says in his best squeaky-voice, "Ooooo-Kay and lays his head on my chest.

It was a moment that would have given people diabetes...

OH. KREP. I just filed my taxes - I believe I mentioned this a time or two - when guess what I received today? My 1099-G from the State. Did I mention which political party is running our State these days? Don't have to? Thank you, my friend.

So now I'm stuck. Again. My return has been accepted and payment is about to take place. Which will be an insufficient payment now. But since I know that the feds and the state talk to each other regarding these types of things, (they're such gossips!), and I know that our last return was edited to include/exclude something or other last year, (who can tell?), and our refund was adjusted, can I safely guess that as they edit the record they'll discover the difference and just fix it for us?

It's the gubermint, so of course not. Oh sure, you'll say, "file an amended return" but that's easy for you to say. You want to do it, C'Mon over.

The worst part is that I was just about (tomorrow night) to do our state return and then wash my hands of the whole business. But now, having received this new form, I may need to re-work the return in order to satisfy the state and only catch krep from the feds.

Such joy. When do we go to a flat-tax?

In karate news, the boys earned their second stripe(s) tonight. MLD is enjoying the fact that she earned her first stripe and - apparently - even helped another white belt to learn her forms. Now, I LOVE her helpful spirit but I'm getting to the point where I wish my kids would take care of their own business first. It's kind of like the airline message where they say to get your mask on first and THEN take care of others; you're of no use to others if you die while trying to help them.

Obviously it's not that dire and as I said I'm grateful for her spirit but maybe we need to work on focus? Just thinkin'. Of course if you add to that the fact that her brothers are orange belts while she's still a white belt - all on their way to a promotion - but counter with the idea that she's, 1) Female and 2) The oldest Child, it all adds up to a general position of bossiness.

Expected, frankly.

In politics, does this guy ever get tired of seeing himself on TV? (Answer: NO!!!!) Does he ever get tired of lying to the American People? (Answer: NO!!!!) The fact is that the Republicans have offered several alternatives to o-care, but he's not willing to accept them because they all have a component of tort-reform. Which, should he ever be stoned enough to sign, would cripple his main lobby. Their plans reduce federal regulations and let people buy insurance across state lines, (which sound likes an excellent idea given my recent experience - see above), but he can't possibly allow federal power to be reduced.

I'll admit that I'm slow to come to a conclusion sometimes, but this one is becoming rather obvious...

Well, the KGB IRS has already accepted our tax return. oh. joy. They'll soon be charging our account for the $340 so I've transferred more than sufficient funds to cover it already. And as I mentioned, I reduced my withholding to something that may bring our liability close to zero, given The Wif's unpredictable income and with no idea how the child-care account she supports from her check will affect the whole process.

But it's kind of neat to get about $900 every two months -- even though I know we've already paid for it.

Still, it's a total mess. In trying to correct for over-withholding we've under-withheld. Which is fine, frankly; I'd rather owe these morons a little bit than leave 10 grand in their hands for an entire year, interest free. I mean, what am I? Chinese?

The next step - natch - is to do our State return. This one worries me a bit since the idiots in this state voted in measures that steal our tax returns for untold generations. "But it's for the CHILDREN!" Yeah; isn't everything?

So we'll have to wait and see what we owe the State, because Tuesday is a terribly busy night for us: The Knuckleheads have karate as well as MLD - one after the other. But The Knuckleheads are there for only 1/2 hour while MLD's class lasts 45 minutes. This means that we're all there from 5:45 to 7:00. Since "jammie time" is about 7:25 it means an early dinner, a quick snack, jammies and book/videos are all rushed so we can pretend to put the kids down to sleep at 8:00. (It's a fantasy we're clinging to, so don't spoil it)

In response, we've started taking The Knuckleheads to their class separately. This works out well since I'm at home on Tuesdays so I can get the kids, rush the boys through dinner, take them to karate just as The Wif comes home. MLD can finish any homework she might still have and The Wif can get some dinner. I take The Knuckleheads to karate and hang there with them. The Wif brings MLD to karate, where we meet up again, and I then take The Knuckleheads home and give them a bath. NASA could take a lesson from us; especially considering the recent, severe budget cuts...

And look: I know most of you don't give a leap at a rolling donut about my family schedule and how we handle it, but I'll go back to the unofficial motto of this site; "It's MY site." Not to be brusque or anything, but I AM the one paying the bill, after all.

On the movie front, I recently watched "The Island," (details here), and half-watched "Death Sentence" (details here) (don't ask) and I have to say that they're both pretty good movies, (or at least "Death Sentence" seems to be so far). "Death Sentence" seems to be a remake of "Death Wish" for the most part, but it puts me one step closer to Kevin Bacon, so feel free to use me in your next 'six degrees' game, if it'll count. And if not, just do a shot for me anyway.

"The Island" was an interesting mix; the religious elements were all over the grid and I was afraid it was going to be a big Anti-Gubermint flick, but it turned into an Anti-Business flick, which is worse in my mind; after all, to criticize the gubermint for doing something evil is misguided because they're far too incompetent to put something like that together. Blaming business is kind of interesting because you'd have to see the year-end report to the shareholders - and ask Dood to check it over - to be sure, but the numbers would be there.

In short, people are contained due to an earth-wide contamination but there's a "lottery" where they can win a trip to "the island," which is the promised land and free from the contamination. The people are allowed to participate in physical activity, (Wii-type kickboxing), but members of the opposite sex are not allowed to get too close to each other, (they wear tracking bracelets). Well, as expected, one guy messes it all up, gets the attention of the people running the place and eventually screws things up completely.

It's a fairly predictable ending, but it's a pretty good waste of time if you want to (eventually) see things crash and blow up.)

So it's February (yes, two "r's") already and with a new month comes new pressures and pleasures. For The Wif and I, we're just getting out of a weekend "off" from parenting since the little monsters spent the weekend with my folks: we got to sleep in, fool around a little and buy new light fixtures for the kitchen. You're left to your own devices to decide which activity I enjoyed the most...

OH! And I did our taxes. 3 times. The first time showed a refund of over $10,000 - which The Wif quickly spent. Thankfully, she only spent it mentally. The next time, we owed $560. What the...?

The third time (with the same numbers, mind you), it showed us as owing $340. I called it good and filed our return. Of course, after the return came back with a refund of 10K the first time I went into my employers' website and increased my dependents from 12(!) to 16(!!). After filing the return I went back in and changed it from 16 to 8.

Dear God in Heaven, we've created a tax system that even the software can't figure out given multiple chances; I'm supposed to trust them with my kids, my Wif and my prostate? What a blessing Scott Brown will hopefully become!

Two things stand out about the SOTU address last week: first, do we really think that after bloating the deficit beyond all historical boundaries this guy is going to "freeze spending?" What the Hell good is that?!? They come in, triple-plus the spending and then say, "oh - we're done now." Right. Try that with your spouse: "Hon, I'm going to do 3 times the heroin I currently do, but I'll freeze it at that level." Criminey - who believes this krep anymore? Who's still buying what he's selling?

The other thing is when The One called for anyone with an alternative to O-Care to 'just bring it to me.' HUH? The Republicans have - as last I counted them - 4 alternative plans already on the table. Most of which include TORT REFORM (john edwards, call your office!), and a relaxation of FEDERAL REGULATION on health insurance coverage: enabling to buy insurance across state lines, as one exammple.

Did you know that the largest health insurer in most states is a non-profit? I bet not. san-fran-nan couldn't live with news like that getting out. Profit? That's for congress and congress only...