Pole Position


IMG_0902.PNG
Some people need a sign from above to remind them of the hazards of consuming alcohol and driving.

Some, need an additional sign to remind them that adding excessive speed to that equation is also quite hazardous.

Some….

need to transform their 1/2 ton joyride machine into a taco shell by wrapping it around a sign post to receive the same sign of the hazards of combining drinking and driving…with a lead foot.

A 23 year old male needed choice number 3.

He will get the chance to make that choice again……

Probably a lot sooner than anyone in the community would like him to….

Seeing how he walked away from the crash with almost no injuries.

Toxicology reports are pending to determine if his alcohol level was over the legal limit.

No reports needed to show his common sense level was way below the minimal limit required to make decisions.

Accidents happen.

Accidents like these are 100% avoidable.

Avoid them.

Gel A Tin


IMG_0900.JPG
Combining words into anything that resembles……well…anything, has become harder than nailing jello to a tree.

And I have tried.

I just seem to stand in front of the tree…hammer and nail in one hand, jello mold jiggling in the palm of the other, wondering….for hours on end….

How long will the cursor continue to blink before it slides off the screen like the jello at the base of the tree?

Instead of looking like a lunatic by scraping jello out of the grass, I just go about my day.

Another day or so goes by and I eventually return to that tree with a longer nail, bigger hammer and a different flavor of jello made with a little less water and gelled for a little longer….you know to make it stronger.

And what happens?

The cursor now blinks in different colors…..at the base of the tree…..which is now attracting ants.

That are devouring my ideas (the jello) which won’t stick to the tree (the screen) that I can’t seem to transfer from my brain to my hands (the hammer and nail).

The tree still blinks.

The hammer is still full of jello.

The nail is just waiting for it all to come together to have the ability to combine the words that will resemble something about anything.

Until then….

It’s still good2begone.

Framing The Johnson’s


I have always been amazed at the lengths people go to in order to get some.

How the evolution of dating has progressed from what it was to what it is now is quite perplexing to me.

I have been out of the dating scene since I began courting my wife over 6 years ago.

We don’t believe that dating others is very good for our relationship. We found each other and have no need to search any longer.

It really works for us to concentrate on each other. It avoids LOTS of uncomfortable conflicts…..and lawyers.

Anyway,

At some point, during the advancements of mobile technology, someone came up with the great idea that sending pictures of their johnson would be awesome.

And a new thing was created-

The penis pic.

I’ve read about them in blogs and news stories and such and wonder…..

Is there a glamour shots for this?

I mean…you can’t just take a picture of your penis and send it to random women and expect that to work.

I suggest, to those who choose to take this path of mobile meat and greet, to take the time to do it right and showcase more of yourself when you are showcasing your manhood.

Here is how you could let her know that you are not just a penis but also sophisticated and artsy-

IMG_0880.JPG
Or…

Despite your small stature, taking charge is what you do!

IMG_0879.JPG
Or…

Let her know your stylish side by representing your manscaping skills-

IMG_0881.JPG
Lastly when all else fails, show her you are not only manly but have a humorous side as well.

IMG_0878.JPG
Good luck in your dating adventures.

And remember,

Nothing really ever gets deleted.

Dumb…Da Dumb Dumb…..DUMB


Me-“Hey..weather man….what’s our chance for rain here in Texas?

Weather man- “Not very good….”

Me-“You mean, not good like one out of a hundred?

Weather man- “I’d say more like one out of a million.”

Me-“So you’re telling me there’s a chance… YEAH!

IMG_0875.PNG

Reworked quotes taken from Dumb and Dumber.

Weather is actual forecast for the area I live in.

The Pointless Midpoint Pointer


The high school sophomore brings home 18 geometry problems that need to be properly equated and turned in the following day.

The stepfather, who is 27 years removed from anything and everything high school, has just worked 10 hours a day for 5 days in 103 degree heat.

Using “x” for the stepfather

(Since he has been dubbed the homework helper which means he has to EXplain why letters in math are very much vital to further enhancement in life after high school)

And

Using “y” for the stepdaughter

(Since the only question she will be asking over the next 3 hours is WHY am I solving letters when math is numbers)

Solve how long it will take “y” to reach his boiling point with the questions from “x” and resort to cheating by googling all the answers, which results in “z”.

Use the midpoint system to find X-Y,
Y-Z and use those to solutions to solute X-Z.

Show all work to receive full credit.

For me the only letters that really matter in this process are-

UGGGH

IMG_0874.JPG

99 Cans


How many can you fit on the wall before you can start counting?

Answer….99.

The problem with that equation is while you are trying to stack the cans to be able to begin counting them down from 99 to zero, you typically have to count them as you are placing them up to avoid not having enough….or having too many.

Thanks to a brewing company in Austin, Texas that problem will be had…never more.

I give you the 99 pack of beer.

IMG_0862.JPG
No more time wasted with those wimpy 6-30 packs of child’s play beer combinations and having to count BEFORE you start to sing the epic countdown.

Just empty the pack and start the annoyance of drinking AND singing the epic greatness of counting down to an empty wall that is replaced by a sea of empty cans lying at your feet.

It all starts and ends with “The Peacemaker” the beer that is encouraged to be drank, “Anytime”.

For video proof of the peacemaker pack press “here“.

Everything in Texas is bigger.

It doesn’t necessarily mean it’s better.

Keep it classy, Austin.

AAAAND…..

Begin…

99 cans of beer on the wall, 99 cans of beer. Take one down, pass it around,

98 cans of beer on the wall.

Dairy Of A Madman


Doing things the homemade way is always quite a challenge.

My lovely wife is not able to eat any of the things that “normal” people…like myself…are able to consume in mass quantities without adverse side effects.

The avoidable items in our house include but are not limited to-

-gluten
-corn
-soy
-sugar
-white rice
-peanuts
-chocolate

When she is out of town, I go out an order gluten by the pound, topped with corn, peanuts, rice dipped in chocolate and covered in soy sauce.

When she is not…..we make everything homemade without the afore mentioned ingredients.

Our latest venture into the homemade venturistic stuff n things food type making dealio included attempting to make our own….

Yogurt.

IMG_0858.JPG
Because….

You can never have enough yogurt in your system.

Am I right? Who’s with me on this one?

It’s even fun to just say….

Yogurt….YOgurt….yoGURT.

Anyway…

We diligently searched for what seemed like days to find a recipe we liked.

But…

We came upon the same conundrum with each recipe.

Here is a sample recipe which pretty much described every recipe for homemade yogurt-

IMG_0856.PNG
You see what they did there?

To make homemade yogurt…..you need to add store bought yogurt.

IF I HAVE TO ADD YOGURT TO MAKE HOMEMADE YOGURT WHY WOULD I MAKE IT INSTEAD OF JUST BUYING IT?

Which brings up the obvious question….

How is yogurt REALLY made if it has to be added to itself to be made?

Was it ever really made in the first place?

Or

Is it just another unsolvable dairy mystery?

Maybe….just maybe….

Those are the questions that have been put on hold….

“Until the cows come home.”

IMG_0857.JPG

A Tale Of Two Siblings


IMG_0855.JPG
The days of rock n roll all night and partying all day are officially over.

School is back in session.

I, for one, couldn’t be happier.

No longer will I come home from work to find kids in pajamas….or not up at all.

Cereal will be reserved for the morning…except for me…I do what I want.

They will be in bed by 10pm and up and gone before 8am.

No more teen movies or video game marathons.

The first day was today.

My stepson is a senior.

My stepdaughter a sophomore.

I had to leave by 7:35 in order to make it to work on time.

My stepdaughter got up at 6:45.

My stepson…7:28.

She came out dressed in her new clothes, looking fresh and ready to go.

He came out in the jeans he had worn for the last 3 days, a t shirt and ball cap.

She had her backpack, which had notebooks, binder, pens, pencils and a daily planner, already filled out with upcoming events.

He had his headphones plugged into his phone…..no pen, paper or anything remotely school related.

As we left and drove toward the school I couldn’t help but wonder how one could be so prepared while the other was so….not.

They grew up in the same house, with the same rules and same emphasis put on their studies.

My thought was interrupted by an outburst from my stepdaughter right as we pulled into the school parking lot.

“I forgot my drill team stuff.”

My reply,

“You mean…the stuff that you have used for two a day practices every day for the last 2 weeks to prepare you for this weeks performance and today’s practice?”

“Yes.”

Uggh.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way – in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.

Another school year has begun.

Quote from “A Tale Of Two Cities” by Charles Dickens