Good Lord what a PackRat I am!
I have been hauling crap from here at the folks back to the Weasel Den, only to find out I need to throw out of bunch of crap there to make room for the crap I already hauled out!
What a mess.
Keerist have I been busy.
I did make some progress, just a little.
I still have more crap than will fit in the new place, I have come to that conclusion.
A bunch of ratty dishes went clink, clank, crash, goodbye.
That stuff is easy to come by at garage sales or Goodwill.
Several boxes went out with just a cursory glance at the contents, see ya!
Of course, I had to cherry pick a few things here and there just because, hey, it's my stuff.
I went and got some propane for the heater, did a spot carpet cleaning job at the foot of the bed, the whole place needs a major carpet cleaning, it's pretty bad in some high traffic areas.Found a decent place to stash my hardware, with a couple of false walls, found an antique clothes drying rack that collapses after ya take the rods out, that was pretty cool.
About three or four of the rods need to be replaced, they are just long dowels but the ends have been turned down to fit in the holes, I don't see much of a problem replacing those.
The toilet works, I will spare you the intimate testing process.
I found out why the POS stereo worked for two days at full blast while I was gone and never worked again.
A.
It is a POS.
B.
It is a twelve volt POS disguised as a component stereo.
C.
There is no battery because apparently my new one went bye bye with the Rat Hole, dammit.
D.Where the battery is supposed to be, the cables were just laying on the sheet metal base, shorting out.
A little electrical tape took care of that but the stereo is terminal, it works for one second and then fades away for three seconds, repeat as often as it is on.
Shorting it out must have fucked it up.
No matter, a car stereo will fit easily and sound ten times better than that thing did when it was new.
The A/C works but it has a weak circuit breaker and needs a massive cleaning, along with a new filter.
I killed a few mushrooms in the back corner and have the stuff to fix the leaking roof, I just have to wait for it to quit raining and find a ladder, shouldn't be too big of a deal.
My old television actually works, I thought it was too old for the new digital shit, whatever, I don't watch TV hardly ever anyway, a bunch of brain damage at the push of a button.
My onion sets are going apeshit, I snagged some more of those little peat cups in a tray for three times what I paid for the last bunch for half the quality and started what was left over that wasn't rotten.
I started some sweet Banana Pepper seeds also, we shall see what happens there.
I love those things.
I put a few packages of seeds in the freezer for the next few weeks until I can get the garden going, I didn't even look out there today, I was too busy.
Yesterday after breakfast, I was yakking with Gram and picking my teeth with a toothpick when I got that sick feeling that something just went horribly wrong in my mouth.
One of my artificial teeth that is built on a Stainless Steel pin came clear the fuck out of my mouth, right in front, on top.
I stuffed the damn thing back in the hole after giving it one of those, fascinated that that shit came out of my mouth, intense inspections.
I have a dentist appointment at 8 o'clock in the fucking morning with a new dentist, the one who did the work retired. We shall see what kind of warranty they have.This new guy took over the business. This thing is only a couple of years old and the one right next to it is over thirty and has had a direct hit from a solid steel bar and didn't come out.
It was experimental when it got put in and that guy didn't screw around .
He actually drove the pin in my upper jaw with the cutest little hammer you ever saw and glued the absolute shit out of that thing.
Ohhh, the memories of that little procedure, you can thank your lucky stars you ain't had that done to ya.
Anyway, I still have a ton of shit to get done, so much for being on vacation, like Larue said in the comments, it ain't a vacation, it's parole.
It is now way past beer thirty.
Thanks fer stopping by.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Sunday, March 29, 2009
That Was Fun
I managed to get the transmission back in the Beast. I see I need to do a little fine tuning on the clutch adjustment. I fixed the fucking floor board too.
Had the kid who does the metal work cut me out a piece of sheet metal from a fucked up door skin on a Semi truck Friday before he left.
I drilled a bunch of holes and pop riveted it in in after I did some rust treatment.
The Fred Flintstone floor board is not conducive to comfortable driving, I hate it when my feet are dangling through the fucking floor boards.
I kind of knew there was something going on there but the floor mat was hiding it really well, I wasn't going to even look until I knew I was going to tear into the clutch. It was ugly but what the hell does one expect from a forty two year old four wheel drive in the Pacific North West?
I pretty much fucked off today but I still managed to get a few things done at the Weasel Den.
Tomorrow is Monday and I am going to go out of my way to stay in bed for an obscene amount of time.
I tried to do it today and I still got woke the fuck up by my cell phone.
That will not happen tomorrow.
Update;
Well, it wasn't my cell phone this time, I got woke up by the house phone and one of those automated messages.
Motherfuckers, I didn't even get the pleasure of telling someone to fuck off.
So now I am awake and have a hangover that would outright kill a lesser mortal.
Fuck.
Time for a beer, I'm on vacation dammit.
Had the kid who does the metal work cut me out a piece of sheet metal from a fucked up door skin on a Semi truck Friday before he left.
I drilled a bunch of holes and pop riveted it in in after I did some rust treatment.
The Fred Flintstone floor board is not conducive to comfortable driving, I hate it when my feet are dangling through the fucking floor boards.
I kind of knew there was something going on there but the floor mat was hiding it really well, I wasn't going to even look until I knew I was going to tear into the clutch. It was ugly but what the hell does one expect from a forty two year old four wheel drive in the Pacific North West?
I pretty much fucked off today but I still managed to get a few things done at the Weasel Den.
Tomorrow is Monday and I am going to go out of my way to stay in bed for an obscene amount of time.
I tried to do it today and I still got woke the fuck up by my cell phone.
That will not happen tomorrow.
Update;
Well, it wasn't my cell phone this time, I got woke up by the house phone and one of those automated messages.
Motherfuckers, I didn't even get the pleasure of telling someone to fuck off.
So now I am awake and have a hangover that would outright kill a lesser mortal.
Fuck.
Time for a beer, I'm on vacation dammit.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
US Torture Legal Enablers To Be Investigated For International Law Breaking
Finally, someone is going to really test the legal opinions of the weasels who twisted and turned the interpretations of law for the Bush administration so they could justify torturing people.
Spain is leading the way.
There is no doubt in my mind that what John Yoo, David Addington , "The Stupidest Fucking Guy On The Planet", Doug Feith and that no good sonofabitch Aberto Gonzales did to enable the mistreatment of prisoners was criminal, now I get to see professionals go after their asses!
It's about fucking time.
Spain is leading the way.
There is no doubt in my mind that what John Yoo, David Addington , "The Stupidest Fucking Guy On The Planet", Doug Feith and that no good sonofabitch Aberto Gonzales did to enable the mistreatment of prisoners was criminal, now I get to see professionals go after their asses!
It's about fucking time.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Busier Than A Seven Peckered Billy Goat
Damn straight there ain't no rest fer the wicked.
I don't think I can even remember all the shit I did today.
First off, Granny has been waiting for three months for this piece of shit, goddamn little plastic tray that was supposed to just slide over the top of her walker.
It showed up yesterday, and just as planned, it didn't fit.
I took the fucking cafeteria tray with two slots in it to work, along with her walker and spent 45 minutes with a Die Grinder opening up the slots that were supposed to slide right over the handles out and then throwing a couple of screws with rubber tubing on the outside on the back side of the damn thing so it would do what it was supposed to do.
She can just lift it off if she doesn't want to use it.That got done at nine thirty this morning and she is absolutely thrilled to have it.
In the mean time, I tried to keep the guys in the shop on track to get what needed done, done.
That didn't work so well because I have two guys that pretty much do whatever the fuck they want and spend half their time yakking at each other because my boss goes around me constantly and gives them these little projects to do.
In the mean time, I started figuring out what it was going to take to repair the throw out bearing arm that sticks in and out of my transmission because nobody has parts for a forty two year old Ford, anywhere, in town.
I backed it into the shop the other day to load up some crap and that was the end of that, the clutch quit working because the idjit I got it from fucked up the throw out bearing AND the arm that levers it back and forth.
I get to go to the shop tomorrow and finish putting the fucker back together.
Just for a bonus project, I found out I have the Fred Flintstone floor board going on.
I finally had an epiphany and realized the spring clip that had broke off could be reproduced with a bit of ingenuity by grinding down an old Sawzall blade and burning a couple of holes in the end to screw it down to the arm.
Ninety bucks and several hours later, My buddy Norm stuck the transmission back in my truck, after a great deal of fucking around with a piece of shit transmission jack and me laying on my back with a flashlight in one hand and a prybar in the other.I would have never got that sonofabitch back in by myself.
I had to beat feet after work and go pick up a prescription for Granny, bring that and the walker here, had a beer, took off for home, stopped and had a drink, went to Bi Mart, picked up a toilet seat and a lid , some canned goods, there was fuck all for ammo, more empty shelves than I ever want to see again, I snagged a brick of 22 LR and some 22 shorts, that was it.
Stopped and grabbed some smokes and then
tore into that toilet.
I have twenty five onion sets going gang busters, I snagged some more seeds for the garden I hope to put in before I fall over dead.
Yadda , Yadda, Yadda,
This has not been a great day and I have so much shit to do it would make yer head spin.
I finally got the toilet fixed in the Weasel Den tonight, I have about a ton and a half of big rocks to load up, by hand, and drag off, a hot water heater to swap out, not the one you are thinking about, a propane fired one that lays on it's side and has to have the outside cover glued and screwed to keep the rain out.
I have to fix the roof, finish unpacking, clean the joint up, fix the lights and do a ton of laundry.
Then it is time to pack up all my shit here at my folks, move that back, snag a couple of fucking cats and try to get them acclimated to a new place and finally get about thirty containers of garden soil unloaded, make some more raised beds and fuck all if I am not going to drink a bunch of beer in the next week.
I know damn good and well I am forgetting about ten more things that need to get done but I am going to fall the fuck down now.
Thanks for stopping by, if it gets a little quiet around here, it will because I am exhausted.
I don't think I can even remember all the shit I did today.
First off, Granny has been waiting for three months for this piece of shit, goddamn little plastic tray that was supposed to just slide over the top of her walker.
It showed up yesterday, and just as planned, it didn't fit.
I took the fucking cafeteria tray with two slots in it to work, along with her walker and spent 45 minutes with a Die Grinder opening up the slots that were supposed to slide right over the handles out and then throwing a couple of screws with rubber tubing on the outside on the back side of the damn thing so it would do what it was supposed to do.
She can just lift it off if she doesn't want to use it.That got done at nine thirty this morning and she is absolutely thrilled to have it.
In the mean time, I tried to keep the guys in the shop on track to get what needed done, done.
That didn't work so well because I have two guys that pretty much do whatever the fuck they want and spend half their time yakking at each other because my boss goes around me constantly and gives them these little projects to do.
In the mean time, I started figuring out what it was going to take to repair the throw out bearing arm that sticks in and out of my transmission because nobody has parts for a forty two year old Ford, anywhere, in town.
I backed it into the shop the other day to load up some crap and that was the end of that, the clutch quit working because the idjit I got it from fucked up the throw out bearing AND the arm that levers it back and forth.
I get to go to the shop tomorrow and finish putting the fucker back together.
Just for a bonus project, I found out I have the Fred Flintstone floor board going on.
I finally had an epiphany and realized the spring clip that had broke off could be reproduced with a bit of ingenuity by grinding down an old Sawzall blade and burning a couple of holes in the end to screw it down to the arm.
Ninety bucks and several hours later, My buddy Norm stuck the transmission back in my truck, after a great deal of fucking around with a piece of shit transmission jack and me laying on my back with a flashlight in one hand and a prybar in the other.I would have never got that sonofabitch back in by myself.
I had to beat feet after work and go pick up a prescription for Granny, bring that and the walker here, had a beer, took off for home, stopped and had a drink, went to Bi Mart, picked up a toilet seat and a lid , some canned goods, there was fuck all for ammo, more empty shelves than I ever want to see again, I snagged a brick of 22 LR and some 22 shorts, that was it.
Stopped and grabbed some smokes and then
tore into that toilet.
I have twenty five onion sets going gang busters, I snagged some more seeds for the garden I hope to put in before I fall over dead.
Yadda , Yadda, Yadda,
This has not been a great day and I have so much shit to do it would make yer head spin.
I finally got the toilet fixed in the Weasel Den tonight, I have about a ton and a half of big rocks to load up, by hand, and drag off, a hot water heater to swap out, not the one you are thinking about, a propane fired one that lays on it's side and has to have the outside cover glued and screwed to keep the rain out.
I have to fix the roof, finish unpacking, clean the joint up, fix the lights and do a ton of laundry.
Then it is time to pack up all my shit here at my folks, move that back, snag a couple of fucking cats and try to get them acclimated to a new place and finally get about thirty containers of garden soil unloaded, make some more raised beds and fuck all if I am not going to drink a bunch of beer in the next week.
I know damn good and well I am forgetting about ten more things that need to get done but I am going to fall the fuck down now.
Thanks for stopping by, if it gets a little quiet around here, it will because I am exhausted.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Terminally Ignorant Fucks Handed Asses, Vow To Stay As ignorant As Current Events Allow
Ya know, I have had about all I can stand with these ignorant motherfuckers that defy solid evidence and keep trying to make our fucking kids get taught that evolution is not a viable subject to be taught in school, and are dead set about making Creationism the Official Policy, making tax paying citizens pay for fucked up text books and subjecting every damn kid in the school district they happen to be a majority in have to sit through this fucking idiocy and are supposed to take it as fact.
Listen up, assholes.
If you actually passed a Math class while you were jerking off in yer socks over Miss Bible Class, you should actually be able to follow some basic fucking logic.
Fact, you claim that the entire Earth is less than ten thousand years old.
Counter Fact,
The Bristlecone Pine tree has been documented to have survived in it's current state for over four thousand years, with direct, physical evidence, that it's forefathers were there long before that.
Counting the growth rings inside a living or dead tree will tell you how long a tree has lived and what the seasonal conditions were for every single year it was alive.
Add one and one together you ignorant fucks.
There is your Ten Thousand years, right there.
Two trees.
Shut The Fuck Up and stay the Hell out of any decision making process that has anything to do with educating our kids.
You are certainly entitled to your beliefs, I have no problem with that per se, just stay the Hell away from the educating of our kids, you are intentionally retarding the most technologically advanced generation in the history of Mankind and I have to tell you, Mankind has been around for Ten Thousand years, at least.
How do I know this?
I have heard Mother In Law jokes older than that.
Listen up, assholes.
If you actually passed a Math class while you were jerking off in yer socks over Miss Bible Class, you should actually be able to follow some basic fucking logic.
Fact, you claim that the entire Earth is less than ten thousand years old.
Counter Fact,
The Bristlecone Pine tree has been documented to have survived in it's current state for over four thousand years, with direct, physical evidence, that it's forefathers were there long before that.
Counting the growth rings inside a living or dead tree will tell you how long a tree has lived and what the seasonal conditions were for every single year it was alive.
Add one and one together you ignorant fucks.
There is your Ten Thousand years, right there.
Two trees.
Shut The Fuck Up and stay the Hell out of any decision making process that has anything to do with educating our kids.
You are certainly entitled to your beliefs, I have no problem with that per se, just stay the Hell away from the educating of our kids, you are intentionally retarding the most technologically advanced generation in the history of Mankind and I have to tell you, Mankind has been around for Ten Thousand years, at least.
How do I know this?
I have heard Mother In Law jokes older than that.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
So, How Is The Economy Working For Ya?
It's getting scary out there.
I have been house sitting for my folks for the past three months, and I have to say, this is not down town.
This is a fairly solid upper middle class neighborhood and I have been having the strangest shit go on since I have been here.
I have this one guy that stops by every week and wants to collect the empty beer and pop cans I put in bags and set out.
OK, have at it dude, I been there and ya are more than welcome to 'em.
Two minutes ago, at Eleven Fifteen at night, the door bell rings.
Not a good thing.
I don't recognize the beater car in the driveway so I take a precaution before I open the door and here is the Beer can dude!
He ain't happy because there aren't any cans outside!
What. The. Fuck?!!
I took the garbage and recycling out three hours ago and I know damn good and well there was at least ten Beer cans in sacks, in the recycling.
Somebody done beat the guy out of his money, which ain't much, but he came to the door a couple of weeks ago and asked permission to get the cans.I can't fucking believe there is someone out in this area that is ripping off the Can Dude.
That's fucked up.
Apparently there is someone in more dire straights, and the Can Dude needs to rearrange
his schedule.
He was not happy that there were no beer cans in the recycling and rang the fucking door bell at quarter past eleven to let me know that.
A locking storm door and a deadbolt on the front door, I ain't worried about the guy busting in and demanding a half rack of empty beer cans but it is sure as fuck a sign of the times when someone is swiping beer cans out of the recycling at ten o'clock at night.
The poor bastard was giving me a guilt trip because I told him he could take them and tonight there wasn't any when he got here.
By the way, this is going to be a big surprise to the old man when he gets back into town.
Heh,the poor Can Dude is in for a let down too, When I split, the cans are going with me, Daddy don't drink beer anymore.
I have been house sitting for my folks for the past three months, and I have to say, this is not down town.
This is a fairly solid upper middle class neighborhood and I have been having the strangest shit go on since I have been here.
I have this one guy that stops by every week and wants to collect the empty beer and pop cans I put in bags and set out.
OK, have at it dude, I been there and ya are more than welcome to 'em.
Two minutes ago, at Eleven Fifteen at night, the door bell rings.
Not a good thing.
I don't recognize the beater car in the driveway so I take a precaution before I open the door and here is the Beer can dude!
He ain't happy because there aren't any cans outside!
What. The. Fuck?!!
I took the garbage and recycling out three hours ago and I know damn good and well there was at least ten Beer cans in sacks, in the recycling.
Somebody done beat the guy out of his money, which ain't much, but he came to the door a couple of weeks ago and asked permission to get the cans.I can't fucking believe there is someone out in this area that is ripping off the Can Dude.
That's fucked up.
Apparently there is someone in more dire straights, and the Can Dude needs to rearrange
his schedule.
He was not happy that there were no beer cans in the recycling and rang the fucking door bell at quarter past eleven to let me know that.
A locking storm door and a deadbolt on the front door, I ain't worried about the guy busting in and demanding a half rack of empty beer cans but it is sure as fuck a sign of the times when someone is swiping beer cans out of the recycling at ten o'clock at night.
The poor bastard was giving me a guilt trip because I told him he could take them and tonight there wasn't any when he got here.
By the way, this is going to be a big surprise to the old man when he gets back into town.
Heh,the poor Can Dude is in for a let down too, When I split, the cans are going with me, Daddy don't drink beer anymore.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Suck My Ass Bobby Jindal
Yer dumber than a box of cat shit.
Stupid fuck, next time someone tells you there is a Hurricane coming your way, remember me.
To be real, we both know that you are not smart enough to pick on Volcano monitoring by yerself, that is a given.
By now, who ever was the Dumb bastard that put that talking point into your speech is now trying to find daylight out of the bottom of your parties deepest shit list.
Unfortunately for you, ya spit that talking point out on National television like you knew what the fuck you were talking about.
I know damn good and well you have been taken to the woodshed by a ton of other folks but if you think for one fucking second that I am going to let that slide, I have some real cheap recreational property to sell you, called Mt. Redoubt, Ya got no doubt.
Bring a shovel and tell all yer friends, they have lots of money I hear.
Monday, March 23, 2009
I Am Going To Be Nice
A lot of people took care of me every other day, when I was trying to grow up, and made sure I got to grow up to be the Ornery Fucker I am today and did so without complaint, it is my turn.
Granny went out of her way to show me some pictures of my skinny ass when I was about 11.
Before I had my nose broke eight fucking times, before I smoked three tons of weed, before my Mother died, drinking herself to death, before I drank enough whiskey to make a natural born fucking Irishman blink twice.
Granny did a good thing, she reminded me that family takes care of family.
I needed to be reminded of that tonight.
If ya got some, look at them sideways and remember that ya fucking love them before they aren't there .
She has no one left in her family except her daughter, my step mother.
I only have my real brother and my Uncle on my real mother's side left.
I am also lucky in that I have grown up with a huge family.
Two other brothers that I love dearly, and a family that goes with them that would make yer eyes pop out.
They are all family and I love them dearly, there is no difference.
I raised a couple of beautiful children, who have a beautiful older sister with a three year old, who all call me Dad, the greatest accomplishment of my entire life, bar none.
I am proud of all three of them.
It don't get better than that, I love them with all my heart.
I ain't boasting when I say they are beautiful kids, one look at them and one look at me and you would know damn good and well I had no part in their genetic make up.
I don't give a shit if you are blood related, My Gram has always accepted me for the ornery little fucker I have always been for 38 years.
That is unconditional love.
I know this because I have learned how that is so true, you can love anyone, treat 'em like blood relatives because after a while, they are.
It don't fucking matter.
If they love ya enough to put up with yer ass, ya love them and their kids as yer own, what fucking difference does it make?
Yes, we have had our differences, but kids are kids and Mom's are Mom's and Grannies are Grannies. Brothers are brothers and cousins are brothers too.
Fuck with one of mine and find out what I am talking about.
My Republican relatives and I have gone toe to toe and not talked to each other at times for quite a while.
Fuck the politics, it is always a beautiful thing to see their kids.
I have watched two generations grow up now, that is scary because I can't remember their names sometimes and their fucking kids have grown up to be as tall as I am and I ain't fucking Santa Clause.
Lot's of great babies grow up to be twice the adult I was at their age, or maybe not, that is where a little small talk ,one on one can go a long ways.
My pleasure to watch that happen.
The best part is, when bad things happen and someone needs a helping hand, the phone rings and shit happens, right, fucking, now.
I am very lucky in that regard.
It is my great privilege to do my part.
Everyone has their day to day complain, I am no different, I just know that I am one lucky bastard.
Kiss 'em and hug 'em and kick 'em in the ass when they need it,
You'll miss 'em when their gone.
In the mean time, I have several things to take care of, one is, the fucking toilet didn't seal and I am going to go All IN and fix that motherfucker for once and all fucking time, next week.
I ain't fucking kidding either, there is going to be shit flying through the air and waterproof adhesives sticking to the floor like peanut butter in a dogs mouth, baby shit on a blanket and cat piss in yer favorite leather jacket.
Watch me.
Piss me off, motherfucker, we shall see who wins in the end.
Granny went out of her way to show me some pictures of my skinny ass when I was about 11.
Before I had my nose broke eight fucking times, before I smoked three tons of weed, before my Mother died, drinking herself to death, before I drank enough whiskey to make a natural born fucking Irishman blink twice.
Granny did a good thing, she reminded me that family takes care of family.
I needed to be reminded of that tonight.
If ya got some, look at them sideways and remember that ya fucking love them before they aren't there .
She has no one left in her family except her daughter, my step mother.
I only have my real brother and my Uncle on my real mother's side left.
I am also lucky in that I have grown up with a huge family.
Two other brothers that I love dearly, and a family that goes with them that would make yer eyes pop out.
They are all family and I love them dearly, there is no difference.
I raised a couple of beautiful children, who have a beautiful older sister with a three year old, who all call me Dad, the greatest accomplishment of my entire life, bar none.
I am proud of all three of them.
It don't get better than that, I love them with all my heart.
I ain't boasting when I say they are beautiful kids, one look at them and one look at me and you would know damn good and well I had no part in their genetic make up.
I don't give a shit if you are blood related, My Gram has always accepted me for the ornery little fucker I have always been for 38 years.
That is unconditional love.
I know this because I have learned how that is so true, you can love anyone, treat 'em like blood relatives because after a while, they are.
It don't fucking matter.
If they love ya enough to put up with yer ass, ya love them and their kids as yer own, what fucking difference does it make?
Yes, we have had our differences, but kids are kids and Mom's are Mom's and Grannies are Grannies. Brothers are brothers and cousins are brothers too.
Fuck with one of mine and find out what I am talking about.
My Republican relatives and I have gone toe to toe and not talked to each other at times for quite a while.
Fuck the politics, it is always a beautiful thing to see their kids.
I have watched two generations grow up now, that is scary because I can't remember their names sometimes and their fucking kids have grown up to be as tall as I am and I ain't fucking Santa Clause.
Lot's of great babies grow up to be twice the adult I was at their age, or maybe not, that is where a little small talk ,one on one can go a long ways.
My pleasure to watch that happen.
The best part is, when bad things happen and someone needs a helping hand, the phone rings and shit happens, right, fucking, now.
I am very lucky in that regard.
It is my great privilege to do my part.
Everyone has their day to day complain, I am no different, I just know that I am one lucky bastard.
Kiss 'em and hug 'em and kick 'em in the ass when they need it,
You'll miss 'em when their gone.
In the mean time, I have several things to take care of, one is, the fucking toilet didn't seal and I am going to go All IN and fix that motherfucker for once and all fucking time, next week.
I ain't fucking kidding either, there is going to be shit flying through the air and waterproof adhesives sticking to the floor like peanut butter in a dogs mouth, baby shit on a blanket and cat piss in yer favorite leather jacket.
Watch me.
Piss me off, motherfucker, we shall see who wins in the end.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
It's A Week Early, So Sue Me
I completely forgot about my Blogiversary last year and don't ask me why, I just happened to think about it tonight.
On the 27th, this little bit of Blogtopia will turn three.
Three years I have been churning out expletives and rants that would make a sailor blush.
That's something, I guess.
Here is my first post, just for posterity.
How prophetic was that?!
Yep, I ranted and raved during the BushCo regimes tenure and I ain't done with those cocksuckers yet, either.
This current financial meltdown is in no small part, from their watch.
I know Clinton is not blameless but just for shits and giggles, take a hard look at reality.
Anyway, Obama and those spineless fuckers in charge right now sure as shit are not getting any kind of free pass, I call Bullshit when I see it, I don't care who is in charge.
There is Bullshit going on too, never seems to be an end to the fucking over of the average working person.
I have actually tried to steer away from the political crap because it makes me very, very angry, and I don't need the stress, I have enough lately, thank you very much.
Anyway,
I would like to take a moment and personally thank anyone and everyone who has stopped by to see what ever I am ranting about, I appreciate that it is a conscious decision to take time out of your day.
Thanks.
To my regulars, (that just sounds weird to type),Thank you for your comments and continued readership.
It took a long time to get any kind of traffic through here at all, and over the last year, this little juice joint kind of took off.
I just want you to know that I am sincerely grateful for the support.
Phil Paul, AKA, Bustednuckles, the Ornery Bastard.
On the 27th, this little bit of Blogtopia will turn three.
Three years I have been churning out expletives and rants that would make a sailor blush.
That's something, I guess.
Here is my first post, just for posterity.
My first post
I had to start this blog to leave a comment on somebody elses blog. I will return later and leave some kind of raving lunatic rant about politics or something.
How prophetic was that?!
Yep, I ranted and raved during the BushCo regimes tenure and I ain't done with those cocksuckers yet, either.
This current financial meltdown is in no small part, from their watch.
I know Clinton is not blameless but just for shits and giggles, take a hard look at reality.
Anyway, Obama and those spineless fuckers in charge right now sure as shit are not getting any kind of free pass, I call Bullshit when I see it, I don't care who is in charge.
There is Bullshit going on too, never seems to be an end to the fucking over of the average working person.
I have actually tried to steer away from the political crap because it makes me very, very angry, and I don't need the stress, I have enough lately, thank you very much.
Anyway,
I would like to take a moment and personally thank anyone and everyone who has stopped by to see what ever I am ranting about, I appreciate that it is a conscious decision to take time out of your day.
Thanks.
To my regulars, (that just sounds weird to type),Thank you for your comments and continued readership.
It took a long time to get any kind of traffic through here at all, and over the last year, this little juice joint kind of took off.
I just want you to know that I am sincerely grateful for the support.
Phil Paul, AKA, Bustednuckles, the Ornery Bastard.
Back To The Old Homestead For A Visit
I'm off to visit The Weasel Den again.
First I am going to head down to the Eagles club and enter a dart tourney.
They put in one of those electronic dart boards and I have been brushing up on my mad skillz.
I used to throw a pretty damn mean set of darts back in the day and have won a few tournaments.
I have a buddy down there who's first name is the same as my last name and we look so much alike that people are constantly mistaking us for each other, it is pretty hilarious sometimes.
Come to find out, he is wicked good at darts also, let the fun begin.
I whupped his ass one game and he turned around and whupped mine the next, this is going to be fun.
After that, I might tackle the shitter in the Weasel Den again, joy, joy.
If nothing else, I am going to unpack some more shit.
Later, gators!
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Why Should You Give A Shit?
Ya know, this has been bothering me all day, ever since I read the following article.
Daughter says independence likely led to moonshiner's suicide.
Why? Because that would be me in his situation.
Give me a few months and we could be look a likes.
Good lookin feller.
Meet Marvin,"Popcorn", Sutton, as he was.
I feel for his daughter but I know where the guy was coming from and that is something that is hard to articulate.
Hardscrabble, get it done, do what ya got ta do, this is the face of America past.
If you would have asked this man what pressing button A and button B at the same time would do, he would have spit tobacco on yer shoe and called ya daft.
Ya know damn good and well he knew more about getting by and surviving than three hundred blocks of people in down town New York City would ever know.
I think that is what is bothering me about the abrupt loss of this particular individual. He knew how to get by and thrive at the same time.
One more loss for this country, an individual with balls.
This guy was a real, live, American.
Old school.
No such thing as a seat belt law, cell phone law, the kind of feller who would take his hat off in the presence of a lady and would help you get a cow back inside the fence on a Sunday night.
There ain't that many folks left in this country.
I never met the man, never even heard of him until today but I mourn his passing.
The amount of knowledge that passed with him will be missed, the fact that he decided who was in charge of his destiny and who could kiss his ass is priceless.
My condolences to his family and especially his wife, who he left behind.
She might not be so glowing in her remembrances but that is understandable, I would have to think he just might be a little Ornery.
In my opinion, this country could use a few million just like him, bet me he could shoot straight.
God Rest Yer Soul, Popcorn.
If his daughter ever reads this, my condolences that you did not get to see him again but that was for your own good, guaranteed, in his eyes.
H/T Fark , you guy's rock for finding the best stories.
Daughter says independence likely led to moonshiner's suicide.
Why? Because that would be me in his situation.
Give me a few months and we could be look a likes.
Good lookin feller.
Meet Marvin,"Popcorn", Sutton, as he was.
I feel for his daughter but I know where the guy was coming from and that is something that is hard to articulate.
Hardscrabble, get it done, do what ya got ta do, this is the face of America past.
If you would have asked this man what pressing button A and button B at the same time would do, he would have spit tobacco on yer shoe and called ya daft.
Ya know damn good and well he knew more about getting by and surviving than three hundred blocks of people in down town New York City would ever know.
I think that is what is bothering me about the abrupt loss of this particular individual. He knew how to get by and thrive at the same time.
One more loss for this country, an individual with balls.
This guy was a real, live, American.
Old school.
No such thing as a seat belt law, cell phone law, the kind of feller who would take his hat off in the presence of a lady and would help you get a cow back inside the fence on a Sunday night.
There ain't that many folks left in this country.
I never met the man, never even heard of him until today but I mourn his passing.
The amount of knowledge that passed with him will be missed, the fact that he decided who was in charge of his destiny and who could kiss his ass is priceless.
My condolences to his family and especially his wife, who he left behind.
She might not be so glowing in her remembrances but that is understandable, I would have to think he just might be a little Ornery.
In my opinion, this country could use a few million just like him, bet me he could shoot straight.
God Rest Yer Soul, Popcorn.
If his daughter ever reads this, my condolences that you did not get to see him again but that was for your own good, guaranteed, in his eyes.
H/T Fark , you guy's rock for finding the best stories.
I Smell Like A Fruit Salad
The thing about staying at my folks, and being a guy is, I take a shower, I use the soap and I get out, done deal.
Oh No, not tonight.
I got douched with diesel real good today and I went and jumped in the shower and the soap wasn't quite cutting it, what little hair I have left was not giving it up.
Unfortunately for me, I can't see a fucking thing without my glasses on .
So I get in the hot shower and find out the soap ain't quite cutting it and look in front of me and see all these bottles of shit and squeeze tubes and who knows what the hell any of this stuff is, fifteen different offerings, I counted them later because I couldn't believe how many were there.
So, being a guy, I start at the top and start opening these unfamiliar objects and start doing the smell test. Smells like watermellon or apple or strawberry, I should be OK.
If not, put it back.
I don't give a shit if it is conditioner, it has heavy duty grease cutters in it,they just smell better than Brake Clean.
So. I dabble here and there, blind as a fucking bat, but when I get done, I feel...... kinda icky, but better. At least I am clean.
I definitely smell better. My feets were stinking pretty good, toxic sock syndrome kinda thing.
So I get out, dry off, notice how freakin' pretty I smell and grab my glasses.
Uh Oh.
I see I have been swabbing in some kind of Sea Weed shit, skin conditioner and skin scrubber shit.
Hey, my bald head is shining like a new dollar.
I really don't want to know what the other twelve things are supposed to be for.
I will be buying some John Wayne ,hard core, skin stripping soap first thing tomorrow.
80 grit.
Oh No, not tonight.
I got douched with diesel real good today and I went and jumped in the shower and the soap wasn't quite cutting it, what little hair I have left was not giving it up.
Unfortunately for me, I can't see a fucking thing without my glasses on .
So I get in the hot shower and find out the soap ain't quite cutting it and look in front of me and see all these bottles of shit and squeeze tubes and who knows what the hell any of this stuff is, fifteen different offerings, I counted them later because I couldn't believe how many were there.
So, being a guy, I start at the top and start opening these unfamiliar objects and start doing the smell test. Smells like watermellon or apple or strawberry, I should be OK.
If not, put it back.
I don't give a shit if it is conditioner, it has heavy duty grease cutters in it,they just smell better than Brake Clean.
So. I dabble here and there, blind as a fucking bat, but when I get done, I feel...... kinda icky, but better. At least I am clean.
I definitely smell better. My feets were stinking pretty good, toxic sock syndrome kinda thing.
So I get out, dry off, notice how freakin' pretty I smell and grab my glasses.
Uh Oh.
I see I have been swabbing in some kind of Sea Weed shit, skin conditioner and skin scrubber shit.
Hey, my bald head is shining like a new dollar.
I really don't want to know what the other twelve things are supposed to be for.
I will be buying some John Wayne ,hard core, skin stripping soap first thing tomorrow.
80 grit.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Backing Away From The Abyss
Holy Shit what a deal.
Every single employee where I work has this shit. All of 'em.Even the administrators in a different building have been hammered.
I see it has pretty much went through the whole fucking country, just by cruising my normal reads.
Knock yourself out with Nyquil as many times as it takes, sleep is the only thing that will get rid of the fucker.
Sonofabitch, Ten hours of knock out last night and I felt 90% better this morning but I am going to knock myself the hell out again just for good measure.
How much better do I feel?
Those assholes at AIG just lit the torches in this country, finally.
I literally saw on the NYT site that they were refusing to reveal the names of the bastards slated to receive the bonuses that they were doling out on the tax payers dime because they had received so many death threats.
No, Really?
Who knew so many people living in fucking tents still subscribed to The New York Times?
Every single employee where I work has this shit. All of 'em.Even the administrators in a different building have been hammered.
I see it has pretty much went through the whole fucking country, just by cruising my normal reads.
Knock yourself out with Nyquil as many times as it takes, sleep is the only thing that will get rid of the fucker.
Sonofabitch, Ten hours of knock out last night and I felt 90% better this morning but I am going to knock myself the hell out again just for good measure.
How much better do I feel?
Those assholes at AIG just lit the torches in this country, finally.
I literally saw on the NYT site that they were refusing to reveal the names of the bastards slated to receive the bonuses that they were doling out on the tax payers dime because they had received so many death threats.
No, Really?
Who knew so many people living in fucking tents still subscribed to The New York Times?
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Monday, March 16, 2009
Happy St. Patrick's Day
My favorite holiday.
A couple of old Irish blessings for you,
H/T to Elaine's Irish Blessings and Google images.
A couple of old Irish blessings for you,
"May you have the hindsight to know where you've been
the foresight to know where you're going
and the insight to know when you're going too far."I'll drink to that.
H/T to Elaine's Irish Blessings and Google images.
Prepper Kitty Sez,
I had a neighbor guy I work with fool around on a mini bike and wreck it and tore his knee all to hell, now he is going to have surgery and be off work for several months.
When I found out he was in the hospital I had his buddy and his kid come over to my place and I loaded them up with three handcart loads of goods. Food, powdered milk, toilet paper, all kinds of stuff so that his family had something to get by on until they got some other assistance.
Of course I will have to replace it all but at least I had it to give.
There is a hard to describe feeling of calm that comes over ya when you open up the pantry and it is full, when ya really need it.
Right now, I just got out of bed because the phone woke me up, I called in early this morning to work and told them I was staying home.
I really suffered with this head cold all night last night.Wicked sinus pressure, headache, stuffed up head and body aches. I have had this cold since last Thursday and it is kicking my ass.
I am going to try and break the fever later today.
Keep prepping, this economy is still FUBAR.
H/T Lolcats for the picture.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Uggh
Head colds suck major ass.
This is the third one so far this year.
I took a four hour nap at noon today and then took Granny shopping.
I made something to eat and have basically been sitting here vegging out, perusing other peoples sites.
Do some of them a favor and peruse the Blogroll until my head clears up enough for me to think.
Thud.
This is the third one so far this year.
I took a four hour nap at noon today and then took Granny shopping.
I made something to eat and have basically been sitting here vegging out, perusing other peoples sites.
Do some of them a favor and peruse the Blogroll until my head clears up enough for me to think.
Thud.
Skippy, I Love Ya Man.
In case ya aren't aware, Skippy the Bush Kangaroo is my adopted GodFather.
I don't think he even knows.
The first Big Name Blog to link to my sorry ass, Skippy has done more than anyone I can point to with an empty beer bottle for an example of righteousness when it comes to linking to little farts like me and about three hundred other small blogs to spread the word and steer some traffic our way.
Awesome seems like a small word, a very small word.
Blogroll Amnesty, that would be Skippy and another righteous dude, Jon Swift.
Selfless.
Giving.
Inclusive.
Been there, done that and get yer ass up here, I am eternally in their debt
Now then, as I was just perusing Mr. Skippy, I see he has a little Iron Maiden up, he is above all, a music guy.
Seeings how I can get into that a little bit,and I would very much like to invite my friend Mayberry into this, let's have some,
Oh, hold on to yer ass, there is more to come,
If yer still upright and have some testicular fortitude, Have some more.
Children of the Damned.
Oh, and let us not forget, Wrathchild,
Have a nice day.
I don't think he even knows.
The first Big Name Blog to link to my sorry ass, Skippy has done more than anyone I can point to with an empty beer bottle for an example of righteousness when it comes to linking to little farts like me and about three hundred other small blogs to spread the word and steer some traffic our way.
Awesome seems like a small word, a very small word.
Blogroll Amnesty, that would be Skippy and another righteous dude, Jon Swift.
Selfless.
Giving.
Inclusive.
Been there, done that and get yer ass up here, I am eternally in their debt
Now then, as I was just perusing Mr. Skippy, I see he has a little Iron Maiden up, he is above all, a music guy.
Seeings how I can get into that a little bit,and I would very much like to invite my friend Mayberry into this, let's have some,
Oh, hold on to yer ass, there is more to come,
If yer still upright and have some testicular fortitude, Have some more.
Children of the Damned.
Oh, and let us not forget, Wrathchild,
Have a nice day.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Everything I Ever Wanted To Know About Toilets
Can I just get this out of the way and say I had a shitty day?
Fuck.
The toilet in the Weasel Den was broken, literally.
Don't ask me how but somehow the fucking toilet seat was broken and had some freakin tape trying to bridge a big gap on one side and water would come flying out and soak the carpet when ya flushed the damn thing. I got the thing cheap for a reason.
I mean, I don't have an ass, I can't even find one on sale but Christ, a broken toilet seat is bad news.
So, I had the guy's that demolished the Rat Hole save the fucking toilet so I could have the pleasure of swapping shitter parts to make one work.
Yeah, fabulous, right?
Not so much, trust me.
For those of you who are so blessed as to not have a fucking clue about a square plastic turd funnel with foot control valves to flush with, the picture above was as close as I could get, just imagine a couple of foot pedals hanging out to the right.
So, I had two of these fuckers to take apart to try and make one, not to mention the local hardware store had no clue about the neoprene sealing ring.
Let me just say now that I bought three fucking wax rings today.
My hands are as smooth as a baby's ass.
The wax is beeswax, I believe, and there is a ton of Lanolin in it, whatever the fuck it is.
When I got to this part of the whole deal, I said Fuck. This.,
Trying to swap this fucking nightmare out twice was not happening.
This is 2009, the shitter parts are from 1985 and 1981 respectively, do the math, that is a lot of turd herding through that little beauty.
Nuh, uh.
So, my buddy took me up to Home Depot, where we encountered a most useless fuck of an old man , who deserves every dime he makes ,and we brought back a real, live, porcelain toilet, in parts.
Let the fun begin.
Let me tell you something right now, a real friend, is one who will haul yer ass to Home Depot, help you pick out a fucking toilet, and then get down on soggy carpet and help you put that motherfucker in, even when it does not want to fit.
Thank You, Steve.
I owe ya one.
This is where the multiple wax ring part comes into play,
I had that dirty sonofabitch on and off six fucking times.
He even went home and got his Dremel tool so I could modify the slots for the mounting bolts, there is a sliding door right behind the tank that now has less than 1/4 inch of room to do it's thing,
Of course, I forgot to get a fucking seat for the damn thing and the fucking water line does not fit.
Another trip to the Hardware store.
The poor ladies down there see me coming and fight over who is going on break before I get to the fucking register.
All this and sick to boot.
Bonus round, my Uncle showed up while we were at Home Depot and hauled a giant butt load of garden dirt, boards to make raised beds with, 60 onion sets,and I was supposed to help load all those fucking rocks he wants.
Double bonus, it rained all day and he was hauling a horse trailer with a horse in it and was concerned about blocking the driveway. Poor fucking guy about killed himself hauling all that shit by himself from the truck to my back yard.
God love him, the worst part was we passed each other as he was trying to get on the highway and I didn't have his fucking cell phone number.
I am literally going to fall down and call it done, that toilet can wait until I feel better, I will walk out back and piss behind that fucking tree, again, if I have to go that bad.
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