Oops

The Corbetts

Kevin and I played tennis today, This picture is about Kevin and Jenny and brand-new, 1-week old Lucy. Isn't she adorable? But mostly it's about Jenny's ginormous, friendly, milk-swollen breasts. Aren't THEY adorable? Jenny is built like Tracey except instead of being 4'10" she's more like 5'8".  So NORMALLY she has a lot going on up there, anyway.  And now...well let's just say that very little can contain her maternal goodness. They're in the Steps, by the way, so I'm allowed to marvel at her prodigious mammaration. In fact, I colluded with Kevin to help him win $10. His brother-in-law refused to believe that I would mention Jenny's impressive torso nuggets aloud to her. I mentioned them. He paid up the $10. I don't feel like we cheated cause I would have mentioned them anyway....

I had to use the wine for something...Yum!

On a happier note...

Football's here! Go Buccaneers! They're playing Dallas today, and in all likelihood, will get whipped. But hope springs eternal.

The City is Filled With Batshit Crazy Assholes...

...and their batshit crazy kids.  You would not believe the racist, insane, poorly-spelled ignorance on display everywhere you look here. There are signs calling Obama fascist AND communist at the same time. He's a gay womanizer. And an appeasing warmonger. And a nazi zionist. They don't even try to make sense or, indeed, even seem to have a passing familiarity with what sense is. There are signs calling for his death. It's hard to believe these people are actually human beings. See? Now they've got me thinking like them. There can be no God because if there were, lightning would spill from the heavens and smite all of these stupid, selfish people and their dim, barely-speaking cohorts where they stand, wiping this stupid shit from the face of the earth at long, long, last.

I am ashamed, as an American, to be even peripherally associated with this horde of brain-dead scum.

I did happen to notice...

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...the bathroom sink light's dimmer was turned pretty low. If you didn't know there was a dimmer --and I didn't realize for a while-- it would have been REALLY dim. :) Love y'all.

When t Shines, it Pours!

At the Raglan Rose

I asked Jame to be goofy. He obliged.

Something you rarely see

Ahhhh...Jersey.

The last bucket o' balls...

...cause I'm probably not gonna be doing this when it ain't free. C'mon, $5 a bucket! I don't think so....

Can't sleep - 4:15am

So I kiss at you, Mom. Love you guys. Miss you all.  Wish I were there. How old is Erica again? Some of those pictures are ridiculous. This whole superhot model niece thing is very disturbing, I must say.  Anyway...off to try and sleep.  Love, love, love.....

Pizza Hut, Pittsfield

Aside from their excruciatingly limited hours and their policy of anti-customer-satisfaction, the local Hut has inexplicably adopted captured serial killer Dennis ("BTK") Rader as its mascot.

Sure, the notes from the children are addressed to 'Mr. Prescott,' but I'd recognize that police sketch anywhere. That's BTK.

Beware of TW- shaped objects

I guess the picture would have been nice....

Mysterious Letters Plague the Idle Biker

Somewhere along the bike path between Lanesborough and Cheshire, are set two concrete posts like this, both inscribed with large, white 'W's.  To quell the obvious suggestion, they are on the east side of the north/south path.

The Ws are inscribed on the southern side of the posts, visible only to the northward-bound traveler.  They are a mile --maybe two-- apart, but seem to have no relationship to distance, which the path clearly has marked: both in miles and separately in kilometers. There seem to be no real associated objects or phenomenon.

Curious.

Also this...

Pittsfield once more

This beautiful purple lighthouse-adorned home makes one realize why gay marriage got such a toehold in Massachusetts.

Or would that be a ... 'mohold.

Heh.

Adams, MA

Another trip down the 10.8 mile bike trail. Round-trip, I should say, for a total of 21.6 miles. And not one of those miles would be possible without the giant scary trail toilets they put at either end. No water, no chemicals, no odor... Just hulking, silent commodes with terrifying and hypnotic yawning chasms that fill one with a sense of dread. There is a malignant, lurking quality to these beasts that give one pause. That combined with the notice coldly informing you your waste products are being, "...composted in the mechanism below...."  Mechanism? Now I feel like the whole scary bunker is some sort of craft that may take off at any second transporting me and my sad little piss stream all the way back to Antares or Betelgeuse or something. I ain't got time for no alien abduction....

Lenox, MA

And this is where you can get the cabinet fixtures of Dr. Caligari....

(rim shot)

Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all week....

Somewhere on Elm St.

My GPS led me here this afternoon? Mistake? Or snotty edititorializing on the part of my GPS?

I probably would have gotten more compliments on my golfing...

...
But this video shows what was going on right behind me, so people were understandably distracted.

Damn you, Mother, for making tiny women irresistible to me!

At Ye Olde Driving Range

Yep. Hit golf balls today with Rich and Felicia. Not only that, was astoundingly good at it. Kept smashing towering shots straight down the middle almost to the farthest markers. Actual Old Golf Coots hitting balls next to us kept telling me, "Nice shot!" and asking what my handicap was.

I have to say I've never understood the whole handicap thing. Is that an officially issued number?  How is that figured, anyway? I claimed ignorance and hit another home run dead center.   Someone was kind enough to point out the tragic irony of discovering you are good at something that you cannot possibly afford to do on a regular basis.  Sour grapes I say!

You'll never guess what I'm doing...

Misty Moonlight Diner, Pittsfield, PA

There are lots of cool little diners in the area. Indeed, diners and Dunkin' Donuts seem to account for a disproportionately large percentage of local caloric intake. And yet the populace is --by and large-- slender. Curious.  Cheese, beer, and ice cream are also important local players, factors which could have --and HAVE, in the midwest-- led to a girthsome citizenry heaving to and fro like so many perambulatory manatees. Yet here, not so much.  They are liberal, by and large, perhaps they fret the pounds away over nonsense.   As opposed to retaining fat out of hubris.  The politics of lard!  :)

I haven't eaten at any of these cool little diners, by the way.  I'm being cheap and preparing alpo out of cans and ruining fruit pods and stuff to get my sustenance.