Monthly Archives: May 2009

Ultimate SUV:

GM bus

If GM management still had the sack to make stuff like this I doubt that government bureaucrats would dare cross them.

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Ok….now I’m worried.

From Federal Reserve chairman Ben Bernanke:

bernanke_4

“A sufficiently determined central bank can repeal the laws of mathematics!”

Calling ’em as you see ’em:

Imagine if you will a little league baseball game being umpired by our new Supreme Court nominee Sonia Sotomayor. The ball streaks from the pitchers hand straight through the heart of the strike zone. All turn to the umpire for the call and are witness to the following. “Well young man, of which racial and economic demographic do you belong? Is that a new bat or a hand me down? You say the player on the other team playing your position out weighs you by 10 pounds and has a higher batting average?… BALL!!
Dr. Sanity has a post up today reflecting on leftists or as they are more commonly known these days, progressives, and their inability to see human nature as it is rather than how they would wish it to be. She hits the nail on the head with this excerpt.

“The squalid utopian fantasies of socialism, communism–or any variant of Marxism for that matter–appeals primarily to people who refuse to acknowledge their own human imperfections, and hence their own capacity for evil. They don’t want to admit it, but those who are drawn to the leftist view of the world, tend to see themselves as superior; above all the boring, ordinary human beings around them; more virtuous, more compassionate, smarter; and of course, much better qualified to decide what’s best for lesser beings like you and me.”

Go read the whole thing as they say.

Busy:

busyPlease hold,

I’ll be with you shortly.

Cat Blogging:

For Sippican

They say that some cats and their owners look alike….

fat freddies catfat freddies cat 3

250px-FatFreddiesCat

uglycat1

Mid-Century Vacation Homes:

second-homes-10Via a pretty cool site called grain edit.

H/T to Tom & Gina at modern.

Bad Boss:

 angry boss

“Stick with me kid and you’ll be farting through silk underware”.

I’ve had worse bosses in terms of practiced incompetance or case studies in inbred nepotism but for shear cantankerous assholery, a certain bricklayer from the Tar-heel state by the name of “Grady” takes the prize as the hardest guy to get along with during work hours that I have  ever been around. If his cake hole was open it was blaring an off key symphony of the vilest insults against you, your parents, your ancestors, future progeny, friends, acquaintances, pets…..all the while  hammering into your skull in an equally profane manner the holy trinity of masonry; Square. Plumb. Level.

As a 17 year old hod carrier my primary responsibility was in keeping the mason supplied with bricks easily at hand and to mix and deliver the “mud” (mortar) at exactly the consistency he desired. And when I say “exactly” I mean that if after relaying the mud up the scaffolds via a shovel and 3’x3′ sheets of plywood known as mud-boards, if it arrived a bit drier or runnier than he was accustomed to I would find the mud-board, piled high with mortar mind you, flipped off of the scaffold and rocketing past me, if I was lucky, amid shouts of “mud’s too dry you worthless sack of shit!” At least twice an hour he would, after a particularly vicious assault on my breeding or sexuality or lack there of, laugh maniacally and yell “Stick with me kid and you’ll be fartin’ through silk underware!” as some sort of encouragement I guess. There wasn’t an hour that went by that I didn’t fantasize breaking one of those mud-boards over his mono-browed head and walking off the job. Somehow I managed to get through the summer and as my senior year of high school was commencing, I elected not to “stick” with Grady, silk underware or no.

Years later after learning the carpentry trade and running my own small general contracting company, I reminisced on that summer of hard work and bruised ego and came to a surprising conclusion.

I still hate that S.O.B. Grady with a passion and if I ever see him walking down the street I’ll do what I should have done when I was 17 and bust a piece of 3/4 inch ply over his thick tar-heel skull!