Roses and a Bebbeh Bun

From 7-30-09

From 7-30-09

Kansas City

From 7-30-09

Not bad... sure wish all those power lines weren't in the way though.

Today's picture

From 6-18-09

USA 6, Japan 1 yeah!

Cat Osterman (1-0), pumped her left fist after striking out Rei Nishiyama to end the game. It was the 13th strikeout in a four-hitter for Osterman.

Beach Boys

Today's stuck song - Shut Down

(Brian Wilson/Roger Christian)


Tach it up, tach it up
Buddy gonna shut you down

It happened on the strip where the road is wide
Two cool shorts standin' side by side
Yeah, my fuel injected Stingray and a four-thirteen
Revvin' up our engines and it sounds real mean
Tach it up, tach it up,
Buddy gonna shut you down

Declinin' numbers at an even rate
At the count of one we both accelerate
My Stingray is light the slicks are startin' to spin
But the four-thirteen's really diggin' in
Gotta be cool now power shift here we go

Superstock Dart is windin' out in low
But my fuel injected Stingray's really startin' to go
To get the traction I'm ridin' the clutch
My pressure plate's burnin' that machine's too much

Pedal's to the floor hear the dual quads drink
And now the four-thirteen's lead is startin' to shrink
He's hot with ram induction but it's understood
I got a fuel injected engine sittin' under my hood

Shut it off, shut it off buddy now I shut you down
Shut it off, shut it off buddy now I shut you down
Shut it off, shut it off buddy now I shut you down
Shut it off, shut it off buddy now I shut you down
Shut it off, shut it off buddy now I shut you down 

Cussing at work

Dear Employees:

It has been brought to management's attention that some individuals throughout the company have been using foul language during the course of normal conversation with their co-workers.

Therefore, a list of 18 New and Innovative 'TRY SAYING' phrases have been provided so that proper exchange of ideas and information can continue in an effective manner.

Number 1

TRY SAYING: I think you could use more training.

INSTEAD OF: You don't know what the f___ you're doing.


Number 2

TRY SAYING: She's an aggressive go-getter.

INSTEAD OF: She's a f___ing bit__.


Number 3

TRY SAYING: Perhaps I can work late.

INSTEAD OF: And when the f___ do you expect me to do this?


Number 4

TRY SAYING: I'm certain that isn't feasible.

INSTEAD OF: No f___ing way.


Number 5

TRY SAYING: Really?

INSTEAD OF: You've got to be sh___ing me!


Number 6

TRY SAYING: Perhaps you should check with...

INSTEAD OF: Tell someone who gives a sh__.


Number 7

TRY SAYING: I wasn't involved in the project.

INSTEAD OF: It's not my f___ing problem.


Number 8

TRY SAYING: That's interesting.

INSTEAD OF: What the f___?


Number 9

TRY SAYING: I'm not sure this can be implemented.

INSTEAD OF: This sh__ won't work.


Number 10

TRY SAYING: I'll try to schedule that.

INSTEAD OF: Why the f___ didn't you tell me sooner?


Number 11

TRY SAYING: He's not familiar with the issues...

INSTEAD OF: He's got his head up his a__.


Number 12

TRY SAYING: Excuse me, sir?

INSTEAD OF: Eat sh__ and die.


Number 13

TRY SAYING: So you weren't happy with it?

INSTEAD OF: Kiss my a__.


Number 14

TRY SAYING: I'm a bit overloaded at the moment.

INSTEAD OF: F__ it, I'm on salary.


Number 15

TRY SAYING: I don't think you understand.

INSTEAD OF: Shove it up your a__.


Number 16

TRY SAYING: I love a challenge.

INSTEAD OF: This f___ing job sucks.


Number 17

TRY SAYING: You want me to take care of that?

INSTEAD OF: Who the f___ died and made you boss?


Number 18

TRY SAYING: He's somewhat insensitive.

INSTEAD OF: He's a pr_ck.


Thank You,

Human Resources

Homegrown tomatoes

An old Italian lived alone in New Jersey. He wanted to plant his annual tomato garden, but it was very difficult work, as the ground was hard. His only son, Vincent, who used to help him, was in prison. The old man wrote a letter to his son and described his predicament:

Dear Vincent, I am feeling pretty sad, because it looks like I won't be able to plant my tomato garden this year. I'm just getting too old to be digging up a garden plot. I know if you were here my troubles would be over. I know you would be happy to dig the plot for me, like in the old days. Love, Papa

A few days later he received a letter from his son:

Dear Pop, Don't dig up that garden. That's where the bodies are buried. Love, Vinnie

At 4 a.m. the next morning, FBI agents and local police arrived and dug up the entire area without finding any bodies. They apologized to the old man and left. That same day the old man received another letter from his son:

Dear Pop, Go ahead and plant the tomatoes now. That's the best I could do under the circumstances. Love, Vinnie

A shoe day

I was at a mall one day when I happened to look in the window of a shoe store and spied what I thought would be the perfect pair of shoes.  Ok, what the heck, I can at least try one on.  I glanced up at the store front, noticing a name up there that seemed feminine and European at the very least.  RED FLAG NUMBER ONE!!!  Oh well, those shoes are so perfect, I will at least have a closer look. 

I walk into the store and am greeted by a young sales representative who introduces herself as an expert on a perfect fit.  Wow, that's impressive.  I say I already know I wear a size 8.5 narrow.  She glances at my feet with a skeptical look on her face.  I point to the shoes in the window, and say I want to try those, in my size.  She goes into the back room and emerges a few minutes later with 4 boxes.

So I sit down, remove my beat up old (but sooo comfy) flip-flop, and she hands me the left shoe from the top box.  I hold it in my hand, feeling the fine workmanship.  I sniff it briefly...  heavenly leather!  The shape is perfect, nice smooth rounded toe, not too much of a heel.  I slip on the prerequisite disposable stocking. 

Before trying on the shoe, I inquire about the price.  Oops, I knew I forgot to ask something.  Her answer stuns me!  Wow, I think I'd rather buy a new car for that kind of money!  Ahh well, I will at least try it on.

She reaches in her pocket, produces a shiny silver shoe horn, and reaches for my ankle.  I say, "No thanks, I'll put it on myself."  I place it on the floor, and begin to slide my foot in.  Utoh, trouble ahead.  RED FLAG NUMBER TWO!  Nope, it's not going in there.  She removes the lid from the second box in the stack, saying that this shoe normally runs a bit small, and this is the next size up.  (Whew, at least it's only a 9!)

So I hand back the first one, and repeat the process with the second one.  This one seems a bit more promising.  Ok well maybe not.  As I move around like a Michael Jackson dance, wiggling and contorting myself, I wonder what this must look like. 

At last, victory!  Although I sort of feel like Cinderella's evil step sister with the glass slipper.

I stand up with one shoe on.  Oh the pain of being a woman!  It looks perfect; but I will have to meditate as I walk just to block out the sensation of pinched nerves in my toes.  So I finally give in and agree to a fitting.

This is a tad bit uncomfortable, having a stranger grope my foot.  "Stand up" she says, and I swear my foot became instantly longer and wider just by standing in that sizer thingie!  "Well, here's the problem," she says, "you're actually a 10.5 medium!"  Oh bah, you're just trying to make me feel bad.  She gathers up the shoes and boxes in front of me, and says she'll be back in a minute.  While she is gone, I start reconsidering my definition of a perfect shoe. 

Looking around at all the choices of shoes, it becomes clear to me that I will have to find out what is available in my size and price range.  The creator saw fit to bless me with feet bigger than they deserve to be!  Well lucky for me, my 'perfect fit specialist' had already thought of that.  She emerges from the back room with 5 or 6 boxes.

"I'm sorry, but the shoe you like does not come in a size bigger than 9.5.  I have several similar styles here, plus a couple other styles that might interest you; all in your size."  Oh lucky day.  I ask her to sort them by price, having come to the realization that I am really in the wrong shoe store.  So now the boxes are all arranged in front of me, lowest to highest price.  Well that helps narrow down my choices.  I point to the first box (lowest price) and she lifts the lid.  Ehh, not too bad but damn, that pointy toe! 

I am able to slip into the left shoe quite easily.  So she hands me a disposable stocking and the right shoe.  I manage to slip into the right one also, and stand up to look in the mirror.  Uhmm, these pointy shoes squeeze my toes so bad, it makes me look like I have a double chin!  They sort of remind me of Madonna's ... ok never mind.  Next, please.

A little bit of jiggling, squirming and forcing and my feet are in another new pair.  They seem roomy enough, but they definitely force my feet into some sort of unnatural shape.  Next, please.

Slip, slide, in they go, and my feet are all pretty now.  But why do I need shiny black patent leather spike heel pumps?  RED FLAG NUMBER THREE!  It is time to admit defeat, and make a hasty retreat.

I think I will go buy my pointy, squishey, squeezy, nerve pinching, unnaturally shaped shoes at Wal-Mart.

This leads me to two conclusions.  Feet, like noses and ears, begin to grow again at around age 40 and do not stop.  And, men are the exclusive designers of women's shoes.  They don't have to wear 'em so it matters not how it feels on a foot.

Makes me wonder what I will look like at age 70, romping around in Shaq's sneakers.  ;)

(this story isn't really about buying shoes.  Feel free to substitute a different body part and a ladies' undergarment in the appropriate places!)

Weird dream

Really weird dream last nite - sort of a "Thriller" blended with Dad.  Dad was sitting on a chair, his face was sort of ashen/grey, his eyes were circled in dark, almost black, sort of like Michael Jackson's face in the Thriller video.  Dad's head would start nodding forward, and somebody would yell from behind me, "John!"  His head would pop up again.  This happened 3 or 4 times, then he decided he would go nap.  I was standing by his bedroom door, and he would snooze for a few minutes, then pop up out of bed, jumping up like a young man!  He would rush out of the room asking what time it was, he was late for something-or-other.  I told him he'd only been napping for 5 minutes, he looked puzzled, then went back to bed.  This also happened 3 or 4 times.  Then I remember a funeral, but I don't really know who it was for.  Tons of "beautiful" people milling around.  Probably like MJ or Farrah's funeral.  Weird...

Then I woke up. 

Now that I have this typed up, the dream can leave my head as dreams usually do.  I bet if I go back to this post in a few days or a week or so, I won't really even remember it. 

Sigh

Where do you 'let it all out' when there's nobody or no place...  Is that what a blog is for?

Well today was one of those days... leaves me wondering where the hell I am going.  But maybe it would be better for me (and probably the rest of the world) to just shut up and forget it.

Maybe tomorrow I will go find something nice to take pictures of.  Working on bouncing back, but it will take time.  Feel like I've been steamrolled, bulldozed, and put through a wringer all in one day.  So tomorrow will be better, right?  Promise me.