VBS Time, Again....OY VEY!

Seems like the last 2 months of summer get crammed with one activity after another for us, so that come August, my kids are actually looking forward to going back to school just to get a break!
This summer has been especially taxing. My kids have had something going on almost every week for over a month! 'Tween ball season, summer camps, "Kid's College" and a band camp for the eldest on tap for later in August, we've barely had time to catch our breaths- to say nothing about the mini-dramas that have been swirling around us here at the ranch. (Which I really will talk about once I can get a moment to...someday.)

Today is the start of our VBS at our church. And once again, I've been pressed into service on many fronts. Some days I really resent having to do so many assigned chores in preparation for this event, but that only lasts for a nonosecond. Really, I do get a kick out of it, once it's up and running...it's just all the behind the scenes prep work that makes me crazy!

Once again we have opted for a very ambitious program that is produced by Group VBS.
This company cranks out VBS curriculum that is like none I've ever known and somehow, despite having a small church, we manage to pull it off, year after year. This our 3rd year using this company's material.
Group has taken the familiar concept and format of VBS and gave it a delightful twist. The VBS I knew as a child always included songs, a brief lesson for the day, crafts, snacks, some playtime and games and a skit or 2. These guys keep all that but it's packaged and presented in a unique way. The concept is that you are back in Jesus' time. Instead of classes divided by age, all the kids are assigned to 'family tribes', corresponding to the 12 tribes. (Judah, Issacar, Benjamin, Naphtali, etc.) A tribe can have many kids in different age groups and are led by the Tribe Leader, which is the teacher for the week. Craft time takes place in the Marketplace, where different tribe groups visit a different 'shopkeeper' every day and make something to take home. In the past we have had a carpenter shop, a tilemaker, a dye shop, a weavers shop, etc. The deal is the shopkeepers assume an identity and must stay in character. For example, this year I am the sandalmaker and I'm kinda on the fence about this Jesus guy. He might be the real deal, but then again, he might be just like all those other whackjob prophets that have blown through town before. My job, aside from teaching them to make a simple pair of flip-flop like sandals they can wear is to engage in conversation with the kids about their opinions of Christ and to challenge them to convince me that He is for real as the week goes on. Should be fun.

The younger kids get totally into the make believe, the older ones...eh, they just play along for the most part, but they all do enjoy it.
Game time is at the Village playground, this year it'll be target practice with foam tipped arrows and bows and learning how to play old school marbles and a few other simple games from way back. Maybe not totally historically accurate, but hey...

Snacktime is just homemade bread and water drawn from the well. We are lucky in that we actually have a well on our church property and one of the old farmers had rigged up a windlass and bucket for the kids to get water. (And yes, we have had the water tested! It's A-o.k. to use.) The kids always fuss over who gets to go draw water for their tribe. They all want to do it.

And then there's the daily skits. Everyday the tribes easedrop on some little drama being played out near the Marketplace by some of the 'villagers' (other church members in costume and character.) The skit always ties in with whatever lesson point is for that day. Since the theme this year is Galilee, then the skits will all have something to do with the time Christ was there. Like on Tuesday, I'm pulling double duty as a skit player and sandalmaker. My character has just come back from listening to Jesus' sermon on the mount and is putting the words into action by apologizing to her friend for all the rotten things she had said behind her back in the past and vows to change her ways and treat her friend better. Y'know, the whole Golden Rule riff. Her friend isn't convinced that the apologies are for real; my character finally convinces her to go and listen to this teacher for herself. (I'll have to change my appearance and voice some, so's not to confuse the little ones with my sandal shop persona. But that's the challenge we face trying to pull this off with such a small congregation.)

Anyway, you get the drift. It's quite an undertaking and we get busy planning and working on this event at the first of the year. But, it's worth it. The kids always enjoy it and get alot out of it and the big people are finally getting into it, too, and look forward to it. At first I was worried that the old timers would balk because the whole deal is "too Jewish", but so far no ones complained. Every year it gets a little easier, but it's still a major job to pull off.
Oh and did I mention that we do all this outside? We've been lucky so far that we've had no late in the day thunderstorms in the past...we're praying for clear weather for this week!

Now, I have to get going...I still have some last minute touches to do on some costumes. Yeah...I'm also the costume designer, too. I've cranked out 6 different villager outfits so far over the weekend, to add to the bunch we already have on hand over the past couple of years.
Shalom, baby!

Mercy! How'd They Guess??!!

My Conservative Identity:

You are an Anti-government Gunslinger, also known as a libertarian conservative. You believe in smaller government, states’ rights, gun rights, and that, as Reagan once said, “The nine most terrifying words in the English language are, ‘I’m from the government and I’m here to help.’”

Take the quiz at www.FightLiberals.com

Personally, I think the gunslinger part is a bit over the top. I'm really not that dramatic. Altho, I do enjoy blowing away the occasional odd waterfilled milk jug.

Lazy Bloggin'

I've got alot on my plate these next few weeks, so I'm coppin' material from other sources. I'll have an update on my own personal melodrama soon. But in the meantime, here's a thing from a dear friend of mine who lives in Iowa. A while back I got her to register for the Freecycle network. It's a national online community where people post stuff to give away, or make request for stuff. The stipulation is that items must be FREE. I'm registered for my area and was so amused and appalled by the postings I started to share them with her, with smartass remarks inserted. She in turn would do the same with postings from her locale. We now have started a new hobby for the both of us.
Here's her latest gleanings from her area.


My daughter fell in love with a cute baby pig and now needs to find a home for a 350 lb hog!! He's a Yorkshire White barrow and is very tame. He loves people and his name is Hoover. She definately will not let him go to someone who wants to just butcher him. She has been keeping him at a friends house and they are moving so can no longer keep him. I can get pictures if you want to see him, just email me.
I promise to love & cherish Hoover... (especially after I take him to the local locker)

Science Diet
This was given to me by my parents for one reason or another however our dogs are used to a different brand so I'm not excited about seeing what happens if I switch them even if only for a few days. Can be picked up in Boone.
Did you find it odd that your parents gave you dog food or that they are trying to set you up for a massive, stinky, farting pack of canines?


I have a box of 2,500 sheets of form-feed printer paper, with the perforations on each side on the north side of Boone, will make great drawing paper for the little ones.
I've been to Boone and don't recall the north side having any perforations on either side


This is a gratefully used hide-a-bed I got from another FreeCycle member. I am too short (and weak) to get it open properly, so I am unsure if it still opens.
It is very heavy and you will need someone to help you move it. It is tan striped and about 6'8"x3'x2'4" (LxWxH). The side arms are high and it is sturdy all around. No tears that I have noticed and it probably needs a good cleaning as we have cats that enjoy sleeping on the side arms and back rest.
So....what does being too short have to do with it & if you've never opened it (properly),how do you really know it's a hide-a-bed??


Offer: Small hula hoop
My daughter has had lots of fun with this but it has gotten to small.
Lots of fun left in it.
Umm, I was not aware that a hula hoop changed sizes and apparently
has a "fun meter"

TAKEN:Lard processed at the Stanhope Locker

OMG!!! Someone got to Hoover before me!!!!!

Lucky Granny Goes Rippin' Through the Innernettubes!

STOCKHOLM, Sweden - She is a latecomer to the information superhighway, but 75-year-old Sigbritt Lothberg is now cruising the Internet with a dizzying speed. Lothberg's 40 gigabits-per-second fiber-optic connection in Karlstad is believed to be the fastest residential uplink in the world, Karlstad city officials said.

The hook-up was made possible by her egghead geek of a son in the biz. The article explains how it's possible:

The speed is reached using a new modulation technique that allows the sending of data between two routers placed up to 1,240 miles apart, without any transponders in between.
(The rest is here.)

And here I sit, imprisoned to dial-up at a slug sedated 25 Kbps. We will never even get DSL here until sometime late in the 22nd century, if we're lucky.
Now I'm bummed all over again!

A Strong Stomach and a Heart of Ice

That's what you'll need if you check these links.

Just when I begin to wallow in my stupid-ass problems I can always count on the good Lord to cause me to find these news stories. Today was such a day. I had reached my breaking point, just about, with the hoodlum doggies and was just goofing off at the computer, reading.
Mutha of gawd, I can never recall a day when this many horrific child abuse stories surfaced.
Kinda puts things in perspective--- yeah, my life sucks right now, but I'm changing my tune right real quick. My piddlyass troubles right now ain't dick compare to these.

It started with this one. 7 kids, unspeakable filth. Oh, and a miscarried baby in a buttwipe box in the 'fridge, too. Lovely. It ain't the first time for this couple, either!

Then we rolled to the couple who were force feeding their younguns coke. (as in cocaine, y'all. Which really makes no sense to me, cokeheads are infamously stingy...why did they "share" with the kids?)

Then the teen girl who probably didn't want to mess up her trip to Disneyland-- so she dumped her newborn in the trash...luckily the infant is ok. (relatively speaking, I mean, c'mon, her mom threw her away like a Big Mac wrapper- that'll screw her up later if she ever finds out.)

And then the runner-up for Parent of the Year. Mom's boyfriend beats a toddler to death...because he wouldn't go doody in the potty.


Satan's leafing through the Yellowpages for a few reliable contractors. That Special Place in Hell will be needing a new addition. It's getting crowded.

Why is it that most deadliest animal in the universe always seems to be "mom's boyfriend"?

Lord have mercy on these little ones. Their mommies sure didn't.

My Summer, So far...sheesh!

(The following is from a very long, venting email I sent to a dear friend. Things have been kinda weird around the Laughing Dog ranch lately and to quote Popeye: "I's had all me's can stands and I's can't stand no more!" The names have been changed to protect the stupid. We pick up at where I was thanking her for sending me some silly, but very funny jokes. Maybe this long stupid story will make up for spotty postings...then again, maybe not.
---WTR)



...Those were great! Thank you! I need to laugh right now.

My latest woe is trying to stay out of being in the middle of a dispute with 2 nutjobs. Unfortunately, they both have seen fit to wedge me there. Once again I cry out to the hills: "AM I THE ONLY NORMAL ONE HERE!?"
Oy.
OK, here's the deal- The property next to mine sat empty on the market for quite awhile after the pizza folk left for greener pastures. The property consists of a 3 bedroom house, 10 acres and the old store building (which housed their pizza shop). One day this lady bought it....cash. She was about 10 years or so older than me and her husband had recently died. Great, I thought, we have something in common, and I looked forward to her settling in. She was a lost duck and was at that stage in her grief where you don't think straight most times and I think this purchase was part of that.

Enter the adult kids...they were upset that she had done such a thing and insisted that she not move there, all alone, etc. So they talked her into just sprucing the place up to 'flip' it, so she could get her money back. It was a flurry of activity there for a couple of months and yes, they did fix it up some. Not in a lavish manner, but more on a Walmart/Dollar General scale. But it was an improvement. The store building, however just sat, squalid and dilapidated. She used it to store her things while they were working on the house.

Anyway, this went on for a while. Folks coming and going, sounds of hammering and power saws. Then, they get done and she decides not to sell. Begins moving pick up truckloads of stuff into the house. Brings a pair of horses to hang out in the newly fenced pasture. (much to the joy of my girls!) Oh wonderful! She's not moving after all! The For Sale sign in the yard went down and I'm thinking we got neighbors again.
Her adult kid is living there and she's nowhere to be seen. I find out later that she has taken a homecare nursing gig way outta town that requires overnights most times. Her son is a slug of a kid who lives on Mountain Dew and Cheetos, smokes stinky cheap cigars and has a girlfriend, (wife? concubine?-the relation was never made clear to me.) who is about twice his size (- and he's a big feller!) looks to be about in her early 20's and is phobic about anything having to do with country living. She is especially fearful about my dogs. Actually, panic-stricken is a better phrase. It has been a source of much amusement for me. Not that I intentionally set out to torment her, mind you. But things happen. Every afternoon I take a walk with my dogs. I have 3 and I don't fool with leashes, cuz, hey, I don't have to. They all stick pretty close anyway. Out of the 3, Dennis is the most lovable and friendly--he's a pal to anyone.

One day they all set out ahead of me and Dennis took a left when he should have stayed straight-he wanted to check out the neighbors, too I reckon. She was in their yard watering some roses. Dennis trotted up, wagging his tail and doing the Hi, how are ya? thing.
She came unglued! I have never seen a fat gal move so fast!!! She leapt up on the porch and began shrieking...not screaming, not yelling...but absolute, uncontrollable, hysterical SHRIEKING, bordering on tears. In between the gibberish I could hear "get that dog!!"...get him away!!!...omygodohmygodohmygod...GET HIM OUT OF HERE!!! He's gonna bite me!!!!

Now I can understand being fearful of strange dogs, but I'm telling you this was waaa-aaaaaay over the top. I was momentarily perplexed. I honestly thought that maybe Dennis had snapped and maybe had growled at her or something, but no. Once I ran up there he was just standing in their yard, still wagging his tail and looking at her, curiously, cocking his head from side to side with every scream. As if to say "Lady, what's your friggin' problem?"
I apologized profusely and dragged Dennis off by the collar. My other dogs wisely stayed at the edge of the yard, just as flummoxed as I was. All the while she's screaming at me about how she is afraid of dogs and why do I have such "vicious" animals with little kids around and such and if they are near the house one more time she's gonna call the law etc.

Jeeuz!!! GET. A. GRIP WOMAN!!

Ok, so now I know this chick is freaky about dogs. I can deal. But then I witness another thing. Once again, she's outside...this time in a 2 piece swimsuit. That right there indicates some sort of mental instability--no woman in their right mind would dare go out in a bikini if they weighed about 265!!! (think, I'm kiddin'? I'm pretty good at weight estimations...this gal was HUGE!) Shit, I never even knew you could get 2 pieces in those sizes!!!!

Anywho, she's out there looking like a pale yard grub wrapped in a couple of pieces of curling ribbon, (Jabba the Hut readily comes to mind) and suddenly she begins to swat about her head and running in circles. Once again she flees to the porch, still swatting and then goes into the house and begins yelling. I can clearly hear her. "There's a damn fly out there!! A big one!! One of them horseflies or something!! I ain't going back out there!! God, I can't stand these bugs!!"
I'm laughin' my ass off.
Yes, horseflies are a bugger. And their bite can hurt like hell, but honestly, this gal has no business being out in the country. She's freakin' about everything!

But Ms. Phobia was just a diversion and amusement. I could handle reclusive, oddball neighbors. Hell, I'm one myself! It was about to get weirder.
On one of the rare days that Karen (the widow who bought the property) was there she mentioned to me that she had "sold" the store building and that a gal she knew would be moving in soon. I casually said Gee, I wished I had known you were gonna sell it, I would have put my name in the hat. (not that I would do anything with it, it's just a moneypit, but it would be a buffer zone.) She tells me that this was a spur of the moment thing, that this girl needed a place to live and that rather fool with all the responsibility of renting it out, she decided just to sell it to her outright. This gal was a friend of a friend of a sister of hers.
(red flag # 1)

About a week later, one evening, a beat up old panel van pulls up into her yard and I can hear people talking and then they all go inside the house (by now it's spring, and I have all the windows open here and their house is very close to mine.) Shortly afterwards I hear dogs barking. It's that monotonous, continual "I'm bored" type of barking and these aren't little dogs! It's coming from the van. This in turn sets off my dogs, who are racing from window to window trying to get a fix on what's going on. This leads to a VERY LONG nite for me. The new dogs go on ALL nite. The barking is only halted whenever a male voice yells out: Shut Up, Elvis!! or Knock it off, Frosty!!! and then starts up again. Oy.
There goes the neighborhood.
(red flag #2)

Next morning, I'm out tending to my chickens and I see this squat, little troll-like woman in the yard behind the store, she's trying to wrangle up a pair of dogs who are roaming about, peeing on everything. One is ginormous...looks to be part mastiff. I love dogs, but even this one scared me a bit.The other is a big white shepherd looking thing, all dingy looking. It starts to bark and raise hell at me. Good thing there was a wire fence twixt me and them. The woman makes her introductions and tries to talk over the incessant barking. Her name's Julie, but folks call her Tiki and she's part Cherokee and blah blah blah oh and this is Elvis (the mastiff looking one) and Frosty, here, is gonna have pups any day now!

Shoot...me...now.
(bigass red flag # 3)

So anyhow 'Tiki' and her so called husband (I eventually got the drift that they weren't legally married somehow, but she always called him her husband who looked to be 10 years younger than her and she was a very rough, rode hard and put up wet 48 yr. old) began to set up house in the store, furnished in all the latest circa 1973 garage sale chic, with a few nods to the 80's tossed in. There's all this garish "Native" themed crap everywhere, too. She very proud of her Cherokee heritage, even though she has red hair and has no trace of Indian in her, physically. She says she's like 1/25th or some shit like that and that's enough to qualify her as Native American. Whatever.
And yes, the dog had pups...right on schedule. 9 of them!!!!! She keeps mommy dog and her brood in a little room in back. She doesn't worry about them peeing and pooping because it's a concrete floor and a door that opens to the outside, she'll just hose it out every few days.(!) When I saw it the drywall was soaked to about chest high from the frequent hosings. Jeez. Well, you're buying it...I guess whatever you want to do is alright.

Can you be a neat freak and a slob at the same time? Because this is how she struck me. As time went on I determined that this gal wasn't right in the head. The store's roof was bad, leaked in several spots, but this wasn't an immediate concern to her. She just arranged the furniture to avoid the drips and torrents, set out pots under the bad spots and the others she just let drip (or pour is more like it-the leaks were REALLY bad!). In the kitchen part there was a bad leak right above some shelves. Her solution was to just stack the stuff she didn't mind getting wet on the top shelf! It would dribble and splatter down to the floor. Because of the bad leaks the inside of the place was covered in moldy spots on the walls and in a few places even tree fungus was sprouting!! (like rotting logs in a forest.) Her only concern was "I wonder what type that is....?"
Hubby wasn't much better. He was a truck driver and so wasn't around much. Think Forrest Gump with a CDL. I could go on about her eccentricities, but the point is the gal was nuts, friendly enough, but nuts. And I was starting to suspect that Karen wasn't totally right in the head either! This sales arrangement had disaster all over it. Didn't want to rent to her because she didn't want the hassle of being a landlord? Like getting ensnarled in a complicated real estate transaction would be easier?! Something wasn't right here.

So the summer wore on. Karen was scarce. Tiki was getting entrenched in our lives. My eldest girl took a shine to her because she had all kinds of artsy-crafty stuff and would be over there, beading and making leather do-dads. I didn't mind too much. But there was still something peculiar about them both aside from being ig'nert as all get out.

She kept saying she was going to take the pups to Walmart to give them away, but never would. She expected people to come to her to get one, why, folks would beat a path to her door for one of these fine crossbred mutants. She managed to give way one. This still left a gang of 8 that were growing fast and running loose!
I never saw fat gal much after that. I guess she just hunkered down in the house now that she was completely over-run with her worst fears!!

Then Karen up and decided to sell the property again...and that's when it all fell apart.

Things happened so fast in the past 2 weeks it made your head spin. First Tiki told me that Karen had agreed to split the property, selling only the portion that had the house and land and that she would get all the legalities in order for them to have the store. But for some reason she never got the wheels in motion. Tiki got impatient, it had been almost 3 months since Karen said she would get the papers drawn up. Karen made herself scarce again. Adult son was clueless about what was going on.
Tension was building. Rumors swirled about. At one point both accused each other of being "off their meds" and here was lil' ol' me stuck in the middle, trying like hell to be an innocent bystander, but waiting for the other shoe to drop.

*PLOP!*

Last week Tiki told me that she'd had enough, that if Karen was gonna keep dicking around then screw it, she wasn't gonna get another payment from her. She would be out of here by the end of the month.
Uh, ok....
Then this past Sat. I come home to a message on my machine from Tiki. Could I come over ASAP and help myself to whatever I wanted of her stuff (as IF!) because she was leaving THAT AFTERNOON and she could only take what would fit in her van!!!!!!
Oh...and would I be so kind as to take care of the pups, since she could only take one with her.
WHAT THE FUCKETY FUCK?????!!!!!!!!!!!
JEEZUZ H!!!!!!!!!
Oh. my. God.

We come over and Tiki is in a tizzy, ranting on about how crazy Karen has been and that she's sick of the bullshit. Her and her 'hubby' are hastily chucking boxes of stuff into the van. My oldest girl helped herself to some of the herbal books Tiki had and said that she could have. But basically all their excess stuff was junk. But I did politely take a broken vacuum cleaner at her insistence. She gives me a key to the place and gives me instructions on taking care of the pups. Where the chow is kept etc. She swears up and down that a guy from a no-kill shelter has offered to take them in a few days and gives me his number. Hubby makes a call to the sister of Karen telling her that they are leaving and to let Karen know. Then he goes around cutting all the phone lines (odd.) I feel weird letting my kids witness such derangement and shady behavior. It's an awkward goodbye.
Oh and sometime the furniture rental folks will be by to get the washer and dryer, could I let them in?
Hey, thanks, you've been a good friend and neighbor! BYE!
And then they were gone.
Left the place in a bigger mess than it was...of course. And a pack of wild part mastiff pups tearing up anything they can get a hold of. They haven't gone after my chickens yet...but soon I fear. Oh yeah...she left one of her cats here, too, since "he loves it so" here.

Now a week prior fat gal and son had moved out and weren't there so Tiki had agreed to feed and water Karen's horses until she could haul them out of there at the end of the month. Now she was gone.
Guess who has to do that now?

Yesterday Karen showed up full of fury. So now I got to hear her side. Conclusion?

Both are mad as hatters.

But at least Karen flipped me 20 bucks to feed her horses for the next 2 weeks.

So now here I am, trying to clean up a big mess that ain't of my making whatsoever and take care of other folks problems. Like that commercial sez- It's called being responsible. I did call the no-kill shelter guy and he said that he was trying to find homes for them but it wouldn't be until this weekend at the soonest.

That ain't quick enough.

The pups have figured out that no ones home next door and have taken up here. They chase the cats, drag garbage into the yard, get in the chicken house and eat the chicken food and worse of all, jump up and yank all my wash off the line. (my dryer went kerplunk during all this and am having to line dry my laundry right now.) They run off with the wash and drag it through the dirt. I'm still wearing a shirt from Monday, simply because I have nothing clean to wear!!!!!!!!! Well, I did...but half of it is back in the washer because it was all dirty from them playing with it and the rest...well, I'm sure I'll find them ....some where...torn to shreds...someday. The clothesline 'game' has been played out about 3 times already since Sunday. I'm running out of underwear.

In short...my life has become intolerable at this point.

Damn! I hate neighbors!!!!!

________________________________________________________________

(Y'know...now that I've had time to cool off some it is a bit petty and whiney, and the stuff about the fat chick was kinda mean but it still pisses me off that I got stuck holding the bag here. I should count my blessings, however, I COULD HAVE HAD THESE FOLKS AS NEIGHBORS!)


UPDATE: Ok, so now it's Thursday. Everything nice in my yard, as far as flowers and landscaping goes is now trashed. I've taken to doing small loads of wash and hanging them up inside to dry. Sheets are problematic, however. My grown dogs have become apprehensive about even stepping outside because they get mobbed by these huge pups. They swarm around them, yipping and such. Dennis hates them. Zeke, the Freak just runs away. Hannah, the old maternal shepherd tolerates them but even she gets fed up quickly. Now when ever I open the front door to let mine out, they all just stand there or retreat to other parts of the house. That's how wigged out they are by these hoodlums.

The no-kill guy keeps putting me off. Naturally, any place like that is swamped. But I did find out some stuff. Like the fact that Tiki had totally LIED about the situation. (Gee, color me Shocked.) She had told him that she only had 3 pups to get rid of!! And that (are ya sitting down?) she was doing this as a favor to a neighbor, me, and that they were MY PUPS!!!!!!!
This changes things. Now he honestly tells me he doubts he can take that many at once. I make it quite clear to him that these weren't mine to begin with and I'm forced to consider other avenues to rectify this problem.
So I call the local vet to see if they have any ideas. Nope. Try the sheriffs. Ok, I know that's a dead end and it was. Nothing they can do. They suggest I shoot them.

Possums, raccoons, snakes, and other varmints I have no problem pluggin' and have done it, often. Puppies? That's a whole 'nuther deal...don't have the heart or guts to do it. Besides when you are talking that many, how can you contain them enough for a clean kill? And then there's the disposal of remains to deal with. If I had any way to transport THAT many in the first place they would have been gone, like days ago to the H/S about 60 miles away! As it is I can't get them all into my lil' car and maintain enough control to drive. But I gotta think of something, some way to do it because this is insane!! Sounds crazy to be kowtowed by just a pasel of "puppies", but that's what has happened. Even my kids won't go outside. These lil' monsters are so pining for any human contact they go ape whenever the door opens.

Gaia to AlGore: "Stop trying to 'save' me! Enough already!" And some weekend reading...

Ok, is it over yet? I mean the AlGore roadshow for carbon generation. Oh. It's still going on? Yeeesh.
I read this morning that Al, Almighty appeared onstage to open the debacle as a hologram! My question is: How could you tell the difference?
("Help us, Tubby Wan Kenobi! You're our only hope!")

Anyway, in lieu of being a cynical observer of this train wreck for global worming, I'm reading this, instead.
Might not be your cup 'o' tea, but I'm finding it thought provoking and just a tad bit alarming.

"Private Jets for Climate Change"

Someone's been running the numbers for AlGore's Live Earth thingy...and it ain't purty.
From the UK's Daily Mail:

"The total carbon footprint of the event, taking into account the artists' and spectators' travel to the concert, and the energy consumption on the day, is likely to be at least 31,500 tonnes of carbon emissions, according to John Buckley of Carbonfootprint.com, who specialises in such calculations.

Throw in the television audience and it comes to a staggering 74,500 tonnes. In comparison, the average Briton produces ten tonnes in a year.

The concert will also generate some 1,025 tonnes of waste at the concert stadiums - much of which will go directly into landfill sites."

For you home players, a British 'tonne' is a tad bit more than an American ton, by about 204 pounds.
It's a long article, but worth the read. I was wondering if anyone would be doing a guesstimate on how much crap this fiasco would be generating. They leave no stone unturned. Looks like there's at least one journalist in the UK with some sense left.
You have to read this, folks.

After reading it myself, I realize I must work harder to increase my own personal footprint. I do have a blog subtitle to defend, y'know. My household footprint clocks in at 27 tons. Dammit! That's such small change compared to this! I feel so insignifcant.

AlGore the Turd: Son's arrest is 'a private family matter'

NEW YORK (AP) -- Al Gore says he's dealing with his son's arrest in California "as a private family matter."

Al Gore the Third, who is 24, was arrested early yesterday. Sheriff's deputies say he was driving about 100 miles per hour on the San Diego Freeway. They arrested him on suspicion of possessing marijuana and prescription drugs.----


Since when is criminal behavior on PUBLIC roadways a private family matter?

This story will soon become buried, now that Lord Almighty Al, the Omnipresence has asked that it be so.

Watch for interest in Prius to soar now that the public knows that those green machines can ACTUALLY hit 100 mph!!!!! (Who knew?!) That's the best publicity they could possibly hope for! And that is the lemons/lemonade point to take away from this juicey, sorrid little tale.

AlGore will go light on the kid...afterall, at least he was driving 'green'! (Albeit stoned, too.) Gore Forbid if the kid had been driving a Ford Navigator! Al Gore the Third will probably only have to do 3 months in a re-education camp...uh, I mean, rehab!

This is further proof that God indeed has a sense of humor. I mean, afterall, here you are: self-proclaimed Savior of the Universe all set to have a massive worldwide multi-locale concert event which will probably generate a gazillion trillion tons of carbon waste all to promote awareness of Gorebal Warming and conservation of resources. You're already a laughing stock because of this and then, BAM! God and the Fates decide to drive the knife in deeper with your no-goodnik kid getting nailed for drunk driving... in a Prius!!

It's just tooooooo delicious.



Remember kids: "All animals are equal...but some animals are more equal than others."

Liveblogging the Continental Congress

You know, back in the day when laptops ran on whale oil.

A fun little historical exercise for your 4th, compliments of Right Wing Nuthouse

Fred! Annoucement Pending?

When you go to his ABC Radio News page as of 7/3/07 you are told that it is now the archive page for his commentaries.

The brief bio on the page ends with : "...and former ABC News Radio contributor."

The ducks are getting in their respective rows...


OK, who had July 4th in the Fred! Campaign Annoucement pool??!!

Pyro-Porn

Well, my in-laws fireworks tent has been up and operational for a couple of weeks now and we are narrowing our selections. This year the tent is being single handedly manned by my young nephew who is way too knowledable in all things pyrotechnic. God help us, if for any reason, this boy's loyalities stray from this country!

The latest trend seems to be towards what they call in the biz "cakes". Simply put, they are fireworks shows in a box. Bundled rockets and mortar-like explosions all neatly contained. Just light the box and RUN! If all goes well then they all go off in sequence...if not...oops. (We had such an incident last time, no one got hurt, but it was pretty intense.)

I was amused by the names they give these cakes. What a great job-coming up with the titles of these things! (To check out some more cool cake titles, I've found the Brothers site to have the most amusing ones.)

How could you NOT pass that one up??!! It's gotta be a must have! Nephew reports that "Munitions Dump" is truth in advertising!

This one caught our eye..


A popular one around here, duh. Nephew says it's quite good, actually.

And of course, we have to have this one!


The girls got their usual "goody bag" picked out.


We don't have our official 4th of July until after the tent closes for the season. But it's always dangerously fun! The neighbors hate them.

Deja Vu All Over Again! (Latest Rassmussen Poll Out)

The weekly Rassmussen Presidential poll results are now online.

Once again, Fred! gets 27%, Julie Annie gained a modest single point.
Oddly enough, despite all his current campaign woes, McCain managed a one point uptick as well. (Oh, don't encourage him, folks!)