Say! Hey? There's a donut on my car!
Hey! Yay! The tire store ain't far!
Boo! Hoo! They can't patch it, man that sucks!
Bye Bye! To a hundred and fifty bucks!
Friday, July 29, 2011
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Posted by sadly factual at 11:59 AM
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
They got some kind of bugs here. Playing tennis yesterday (gingerly) I felt a shocking burning pain on my left calf. When I finished the point (gotta finish the point) I looked down and something had chawed the hell out of my leg. Here is a blurry pic of the deep L-shaped furrow whatever it was cut through my leg in about 3 seconds. Plus there are incidental small point-like wounds all around the same area. This wound is probably an 1 ⅛ inches long and deep enough to scab over like a cut. I wish to hell I'd seen whatever the heck it was that bit me. Especially since it got my right leg a few minutes later, though not nearly as bad. Some kind of malevolent flying melon-baller, it would seem.
Posted by sadly factual at 10:42 AM
Monday, July 25, 2011
Now, in a red state, one would assume they were both jockeying for position and refused to yield and ran each other off the highway from sheer muleheaded idiocy and lust to be in front. But this is not a red state. And both of these cars were festooned with Ben -n- Jerry stickers and 'Visualize Whirled Peas' and all the of that other liberal claptrap. These kinds ran each other off the road because they were nervous nellies who can't drive worth a damn.
Which brings me to my point: although in every other way, I sympathize with the Blue States in general, they are terrible, terrible drivers. In fact, they are terrified of anything that could hurt them or their dubiously precious offspring. They drive the way they do because they are scared, all the time. Which, as I get older and grumpier, I start to see is the basis of the Red side scoffing and calling liberals self-centered and self-absorbed. In this small particular, they are correct. Every very liberal friend I have drives like the Grim Reaper is tailing them, nervous eyes darting back and forth, hands twitching on the wheel, braking uphill, regarding every thing around them as a harbinger of death. They go slow in fast lanes, never mind that they cause people to start changing lanes like demented monkeys behind them to get around, thus making things way more dangerous. They don't care. Eyes locked on the road, fingers frozen into frightened claws on the wheel, mouth set in a rictus of fear, they drive like Victorian women had sex: close your eyes and think of England and you'll get through it.
Driving is dangerous, yes. But it is more dangerous when you are white-knuckling your way making everyone jumpy around you. Why are people so afraid of dying when there is no chance in the world they are not going to die? How much fun is your life if you spend it fretting about your death? I think fretting is a good word here. See...these people who had the accident, they probably could have steered their cars out of each others way- they probably saw the accident coming seconds ahead. But, sadly, all they are really capable of doing is fretting. I'm sure they spent those last few pre-accident seconds worrying about what was about to happen and hoping someone would get them out of it. Even though they are the one holding the steering wheel.
One week up here. I'm trying to follow pickups and avoid Volvos. Cause even though liberals are nicer people, they cannot drive worth a goddam. Let me follow a guy on the way to a Klan rally or something. If the whole country one day turns nice, does that mean we'll all have to be whiny, fretful scared, bad-driving, do-nothings? Ah well...the price of progress, I guess.
Posted by sadly factual at 11:15 AM
Friday, July 22, 2011
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Posted by sadly factual at 2:56 AM
Monday, July 18, 2011
Friday, July 15, 2011
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Here's a clip to click on. It isn't dirty, although for a second you think it will be. Her bashfulness causes a machine gun to protrude from her ass, which embarrasses her more, which causes it protrude further and fire, and so on. See? She's so embarrassed, she cries, "No!" It's tricky: you beat her in a fight, she gets embarrassed and that allows her to kill you. Tough call on whether or not to win the initial fight, there. Japan is a rich, rich vein of weirdity.
Posted by sadly factual at 11:29 AM
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Posted by sadly factual at 12:48 PM
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Thursday, July 7, 2011
I think I've seen the Spartanburg evidence technicians more than my kids the last few years. In the case of Jame - WAY more. Love y'all. Stay out of Spartanburg.
Posted by sadly factual at 5:29 PM
Monday, July 4, 2011
Posted by sadly factual at 2:56 PM