Saturday, September 30, 2006

Friday, September 29, 2006

Tuesday, September 26, 2006


I used to really like watching Scrooge McDuck swim in his money.

Monday, September 25, 2006


If you had to choose one book, and make it so that this book had never been written, which book would you choose?


I remember one time I witnessed the start of a bar-fight in St Albans when I was a Police Officer. I was parked in a dark corner of Municipal Parking Lot #1 with my headlights off watching patrons make their way between the bars on the surrounding streets. It was a cold night, and I mean cold! Subzero winds were whistling between the buildings catching the wraith-like exhaust from parked cars and sending them off into the dark. Over near Kingman Street, on the far side of the parking lot, I observed a young man 'round the corner and make his way into the parking lot. He looked to be in his early twenties and skinny. All he was wearing was a t-shirt. He didn't look cold though, and he wasn't making for any building or parked car (a sure sign he was intoxicated). He was just pacing back and forth in the parking lot, running his fingers through his hair, then jamming his hands in his pockets, then running them through his hair again, and all the while pacing back and forth and muttering to himself.

After a minute or so a girl walked around the corner. Pretty, hair dyed blond with darkish roots showing, and high-heels. She seemed a littly wobbly. "Could be she's drunk or maybe it's the high-heels'" I reasoned. She made her way up to the aforementioned male who grew more agitated. He started yelling and gesturing wildly. I started asking myself "are they gonna work this out themselves or should I offer my assistance?"

Just as I'm about to turn on my headlights and drive across the parking lot, the girl turns and walks back inside. The male follows for a few yards, speaking after her in a more conciliatory tone. She keeps walking and doesn't look back. "Good for her," I said out loud (I talked a lot to myself in my cruiser).

The male, seeing that he had overplayed the angry card, turned on his heel, yells "f**k" and starts walking through the parking lot to another bar on Lake Street. I watched him as he walked through the alleyway by the moose lodge and disappeared around the corner. A few minutes later he walked back into the alley followed by 3 or 4 scurfy lookin dudes. His demeanor had changed. He looked confident not dejected. He was still agitated and angry looking but now it looked like a proactive anger- an anger with a plan. Do you know what I mean? His buddies seemed to be feeding off his enthusiasm and righteous indignation too. I could see they were working themselves up.

I glanced abck across the parking lot and saw the girl walking into the parking lot on the arm of another guy. He was bald, but only shiny on top- like he had started going bald, and then just shaved off what hair was left. It was a good look for him. It made him look tough. So did the tattoos on his bare arms. He was wearing one of those flannel plaid shirts with the sleeves cut off. He was definately fat, but he carried it well, and succeeded in looking more substantial than fat.

despite the cold, I rolled down the window of my cruiser to hear better. It was clear there was going to be a confrontation of some sort, but would it be the legal kind or the illegal? Just as I rolled down the window I heard the first guy, speaking to his friends, say "That's him. That's the f*****r right there!" I looked back at the girl who was climbing up into the cab of the big guy's pickup truck. As the big guy made his way around the back of the truck towards the driver's side he was confronted by the first guys friends who were preventing him from getting into his truck. Meanwhile the first guy was pounding on the passenger side window and screaming unrepeatable things at the girl.

I decided this was definately becoming illegal, turned on the lights, and put my cruiser in drive. As I was pulling out of my parking space. I saw that the first guy had joined his friends and they had pushed the big guy to the ground. I gave my siren a little woop-woop to get their attention. The first guy and his friends turned their back on the big guy to give me their attention. I watched as the big guy regained his feet and started to charge his assailants from behind. They weren't paying attention to him. then the big guy's legs went out from under him as he slipped on some ice, and then, in a flash (far quicker than it seemed his girth would allow), he was back on his feet and running. It reminded me of a rhino or a locomotive in motion. Even if he had wanted to stop I don't think inertia would have allowed him too.

He crashed into the gaggle of would-be tough guys like a bowling ball into so many pins. His target was clearly the first guy who he landed on with all of his force and proceeded to pummel . I grabbed for my radio and yelled "10-10 in Parking lot #1," then jumped from my cruiser and successfully broke up the fight. Nobody wanted to give statements for assault so I issued them all citations for disorderly conduct.

Anyway, the moral of the story is that the Skins are like that big guy. So far this season they have been pushed around, and they slipped a little on the ice, but I'm telling you they are back on their feet and they are charging forward, and every team in the league has written them off and turned their back on a threat.

... and yeah, I know their win last week was against the Texans, and yes, the Texans suck, but I feel better about this team for some reason. My doubts have been removed. I'm angry but not dejected. It's a proactive anger. Do you know what I mean?

They changed to black and whites!

I loved many things about the St Albans City Police Department during the roughly four years that I collected a pay check from them, but one thing that I was always a staunch critic of was the color scheme on their cruisers. It was a messy melange of dark blue, and green with purplish-blue lettering. Many were the times that we would sit around the squad room and comment on how we wished we had black and whites like they did in Burlington. Well, they finally got 'em, and I gotta say they look sharp. They make me want to go back out and patrol the Maple Sugar Capital of the world.

Incidentally, the officer pictured in the top image is Sgt. Judy Dunn. She may not look it, but she is easily one of the toughest chicks I have ever known. She was my field training officer when I first joined the department. One of the first things she ever said to me as I slid into the passenger seat next to her was "The first rule is, if I'm getting my a** kicked your m#$%&r f#%&^#$g a** better be getting kicked too." Don't mess with Sgt. Dunn!

Thursday, September 21, 2006


I've had this song bouncing around the cavernous confines of my brain ever since a shopping trip to WalMart last Monday (...and no, I do not have any moral qualms about shopping at Walmart.). As I was walking through the toy section with Bowden-bose I heard the following:

"No, I don't want no scrub-
A scrub is a guy that can't get no love from me-
Hangin' out the passenger side of his best friend's ride
Trying to holler at me."

Over and over and over again I have been singing that part, and just that part, for the past few days. It was the first thing that rose to the surface in my fuzzy brain this morning as I woke up, I sang it in the shower, on the walk down to the office, and even now as I type this post. I can't shake it.

Sarah has a theory that if you are able to sing the song in its entirety it will break the spell and you can banish it from your head forever. So far that has only added the following stanza to my reptitious repertoire:

"A scrub is a guy that thinks he's fine-
Also known as a busta!"

In Sarah's defense though I have not yet successfully sang the song all the way through. Maybe I should try that right now. I will google the lyrics. What is the song's title? ... and what evil sorceress of a singer conjured that mix of lyrics and melody to so bedevil my fevered mental wanderings? I need these answers to successfully google the lyrics. Sounds like a job for Dora the Explorer and her cousin Diego. "First over the Lollipop bridge, then through the kite forest, then under the railroad tracks, and then we find the lyrics and save Josh from going INSANE! Hooray!"

Does anybody out there in the blogosphere have any tips on how to remove an undesireable song from your head?

Sunday, September 17, 2006


Stupid Cowboys

I don't like the taste of crow or humble pie, but I think they leave a good after taste.

Friday, September 15, 2006


Oh what glee,
T'were I a bee,
And she
My hive and honey!

I'd buzz along so merrily,
And ever after happy be,
If she
Would only love me!

Tuesday, September 12, 2006



The Eagles are currently on top of the division. That cannot be disputed.

...but if I may quote my brother John on Washington's loss last night "fifteen and one I guess."

It really is too soon for me to talk about it though. A serious kick in the gut. It hurt.

Monday, September 11, 2006


Myt family, the Occidental Tates, have declared today a family Holiday to be celebrated annually on the day of the redskin's season opener. It will be called Happy Day!!! I tried to upload a picture of Rotel, but the stupid system kept rejecting it for some reaosn, but I didn't get all pissed off about it 'cause it's Happy Day!

I'll have to post later about how we observed the holiday, but right now I have to get back to my wife and spawn. Let the festivities begin, and a very merry happy day to you!

Hail to the Redskins!

Sunday, September 10, 2006


Camping is one of those things I think I would really enjoy if I had to camp. The whole act opf marching out into the woods, pitching a tent, cooking over a fire, sleeping under the stars, etc... for no other purpose than to do those things strikes me as landing a little to close to make believe or role playing. Imitating something genuine. I think I would love camping in the woods and sleeping, eating and living out of doors, but for me to enjoy camping it would need to be necessary. I long for a scenario (I really do) where I have no choice but to live in the woods with no shelter but my tent for a couple of months.

I think I would enjoy hiking and horseback riding too if I was required to do those things. ...but doing them for their own sake strikes me as an empty and unsatisfying activity. I would love it if I had to do them though.

Thursday, September 07, 2006


This man said that the Redkins will finish last in their division.
...and this man agreed with him.
...and then they both had a good chuckle about the Redskin's preseason performance.
Lets just see what they're saying around Chistmas time.

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

Tuesday, September 05, 2006


...and it all begins Monday night at 7:00 pm (eastern Standard Time) at FedEx field against the Vikings. I am all tingly with excitement! Sarah has purchased the Rotel. I'm gonna buy some refreshing beverages, and Monday evening will find me in my living room consuming an almost pornographic amount of calories.


I held a press conference earlier today on Camp Maranatha's athletic field to announce the exciting news that the Widjiwats have decided to send troops to support the cause of liberty in Iraq, but nobody, not even the Idyllwild Town Crier, arrived to cover this exciting piece of breaking news. Of course, I credit that to the liberal bias in the media and to the fact that most people deny the existence of Widjiwats. Mostly liberal bias though.

Jarudet, the Widjiwat King, intends to send 325 of his best warriors and 13 trained battle crows to the troubled region beginning next month. A follow up force of 1000 may arrive as soon February 2007.

Men to the fore
It's war! It's war!
Hutela AmaDundar!

Take up your spear!
Our enemy's near!
Hutela AmaDundar!

Men show heart,
And do your part!
Hutela AmaDundar!

On to the fight!
Our cause is right!
Hutela AmaDundar!

As we go out
Rise up and shout
Hutela AmaDundar!

Monday, September 04, 2006

CPO BOX 1666

Just last week I began a correspondence campaign to send a letter a week to my former college post office box. I have been thinking about this for over a year now (as my wife can attest), and have been collecting a lot of strange/random/fascinating things to send to that lucky boxholder. I was wondering if anyone out there in the blogosphere was planning to be in the Houghton area around Christmas time. If so, I would mail you some CPO box sized Christmas decorations to adorn said box with. I unfortunatrely will not be in the area, but would appreciate an assist.

The only thing that's a little disconcerting is not knowing if anyone is currently using that box. Is all my effort just ending up in the dead letter office? Plus, does the recipient think he/she is being stalked by some weirdo? Am I a weirdo? I think on the next letter I will give me name and return address. No longer will I operate from the shadows.


If you were walking through the woods with a rifle and you spotted sasquatch, would you shoot him?


"They were forceful words and spoken well-
Properly weighted as they fell.

Through funnel ears they were recieved,
And by some, like me, they were believed."