Iron Chef is me

Well, I spent the vast majority of the weekend engaged in culinary pursuits. Last night I tried out a new recipe for Peach-Rosemary Chicken which turned out to be VERY tasty. Today, I grilled steaks for lunch and while I had the fire going, barbequed some country-style ribs. I had put a dry rub on both the steaks and ribs last night, so they were definitely ready to go. At least now I've got my meals for the next week planned out. That's the key to bachelor living... planning.

All in all, a very lazy Sunday. I'm going to top it off with a football game (GO TEXANS!!!) and maybe some Xbox. It's good to be king!!

Of Frogs...

I was thinking today, do you know what the only thing that is guaranteed to happen when a frog jumps?

He's going to land on his ass...

Great wisdom in that.

Then there's the old biker saying, "Keeping your mouth shut is the best way to keep from swallowing something nasty." They were talking about flies and other insects, but it applies to life in general.

Hmmm... frogs and flies. Anyone see a pattern?

The difference between men and boys...

... is the size of their toys.

Last week, my ancient, decrepit pushmower finally decided to give up the ghost. I can't complain much, seeing as how it was nearly ten years old and cost less than $100 when I bought it. And it has mowed a ton of grass. Truth be told, I was secretly wishing for its demise. It was a basic, side-discharge, 3.5HP B&S push mower. My inner Tim "The Toolman" Taylor was screaming for something more.

Anyway, midway through mowing the lawn last Saturday, it died and refused to start. I cleaned out the carb and checked the plug and ignition, but nothing worked. A moment of sadness followed by "YIPEEE!!!"

I now could go buy a new mower with a clear conscious. So on Sunday morning I went to the big blue national-chain home improvement store and purchased my new toy. Self-propelled, bag, mulch, or side-discharge, 5.5HP Honda-powered goodness. Aaarghh, Aaarghh, Aaargh!!!

This morning I got to put it through its paces. The Honda starts so much easier and is MUCH quieter than the B&S. The self-propel works like a charm and there was nothing that could bog this thing down. It just flat out mowed circles around the old mower, as well it should, considering it cost three times as much. I finished in a lot less time and wasn't nearly as tired. There's something to be said for just walking behind the mower while it pulls itself along versus having to provide the locomotive force yourself.

Is it a sign of insanity that I almost (ALMOST) can't wait for the grass to grow so I can mow again?

Ya got two ears and one mouth...

... don't cha think ya oughta listen twice as much as ya talk."

My grandpa used to say that to me. It's amazing that as I've grown older, I begin to realize the truth and wisdom in the things my grandpa, grandma, mom, and dad used to tell me. I truly wish I knew half as much now as I thought I knew when I was sixteen.

I also wish I'd taken his advice and listened a lot more than I'd talked all those years ago.

Wax on, Wax off

"Uurrrkkk......Uuuurrrkkkk.....Uuurrrkkkkk...."

That was the sound that awakened me this morning. The unmistakable sound of a dog trying to heave. At least Buford was on the floor this time and didn't heave in the bed!!! I jumped up and hurriedly ushered him outside but it was too late. Great, now I've got to clean up dog puke. What a way to start a Sunday!!!

So now that I'm up at 8:00AM, I figure I might as well do something. Sunday is my day to clean house; it lets me start the week out fresh, so to speak. So I vaccuum and mop and wash the sheets and clean the kitchen and bathrooms. By 10:00, I'm done.

So I start to clean my truck. I vacuumed and wiped-down the inside and washed and waxed the exterior. That truck looks REALLY GOOD when it's cleaned up.

I finished just before 13:00, so now it's time to post my blog and take a nap. I may play some NCAA Football 2005 on the Xbox.

I owe, I owe... so it's off to work I go....

"The Reason I Work: A Short Essay"

by Me


I like to eat.

The End.


So my near-idyllic summer vacation has wound down to a close and I am forced to once again perform the duties that garner me a paycheck. Once more into a classroom full of shiny, happy faces ripe with promise, only to have that promise castrated by apathy. Not ignorance... apathy. Students today don't care and they want everything given to them on a silver platter. The ideals that made America the world's greatest nation, that hard-work and perseverance can accomplish anything, are dead to the upcoming generations.

And who is to blame? Parents, teachers, media, politicians, peers... even the students themselves. Every one of them shares responsibility, but the only ones being held accountable are the teachers.

Scary, isn't it.

Well then, why isn't it "stoply" force?

I finally got around to doing something that I've been wanting to do for years. No, it isn't having sex with Jennifer Aniston. It's taking a concealed handgun class.

Ya' see, in the Republic of Texas, with the proper training and license, you are allowed to carry a handgun on your person. Which solidifies my opinion that we have the stupidest criminals in the world here. I mean, would you attack someone knowing that there is the possibility that they are armed? I wouldn't, but then again, I'm neither stupid nor a criminal.

Most of the stuff I already knew, but there was some good information on it. Though the educated person in me chuckled at the question about the purpose of using deadly force. Contrary to what you might think, it is not to kill someone, but rather to stop them from committing their life-threatening action.

Wait a second!!! "Deadly" force. As in making someone dead. As in killing them. Not stopping them, killing them. If I wanted to just stop them... well, I wouldn't call it deadly force, I'd call it something else.

Anyway, part of the class is going to the gun range and testing your proficiency with handguns. Just so you'd know, I did pass. The weapon I was given to use was a Smith & Wesson 9mm. Pretty nice double-action semi-auto that fit my hand fairly well. Not as well as my old Browning Hi-Power, but the Browning did have Pachmayr grips. I've always thought that I'd go back to a Hi-Power when I bought another handgun, but I might have to check out the S&W. That or a Sig, but sure as hell not a Glock. No "tactical Tupperware" for me, I really don't trust a gun without a hammer.

Anyway, that was my Saturday. I've spent today sitting on my @$$, trying to relax one last time before I have to go back to work on Wednesday.

One of the things they did teach us at the class was that school employees are not allowed to carry a gun on school premises. Well duh!!! There's a reason for that, trust me...

The Monkey on my Back

It's my son's fault. He said it was harmless, that "everyone" was doing it. I thought, "what the hell, I'm an adult," that I could try just a little and walk away. No harm, no foul.

But I couldn't. I tried going cold turkey, but I just couldn't.

So I broke down and ordered one. An Xbox. An Xbox with NCAA Football 2005.

It was waiting at the door when I came back from lunch. Great Italian food with a hot blonde, what better way to spend lunch. But I digress...

My fix was there, waiting for me when I arrived home. I quickly opened the box and hooked up all the cables. I then spent the next hour creating my team and players.

I was ready to play.

So I pick the team I want to go against and get ready. It goes through all the pre-game activities and then..... it stops. I get an error message telling me the disc is dirty or damaged. I take it out, but see no bad scratches or anything that could be causing the error. I clean it carefully and put it back in and go through the procedures again to start the game. Same error. I do this several times to no avail.

So now I've got my Xbox, but the game won't work. My fix is right there but I can't use it....

NNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!

My Give-A-Damn is Busted

I'm guessing that the realization that my summer vacation ends in less than a week and that in less than two, I'll be staring at a whole new crop of shiny, happy faces ready to spend the next ten months in constant whine-mode....

Well, let's just say that my tolerance for idiots is at an all-time low.

Throw in on top of that my still-ongoing struggles with a certain satellite TV company. When all this started, I had a DVR receiver that I wanted to use. However, I needed a new access card, which most of you know took a lot of hair-pulling and teeth-gnashing to acquire. During this time, the install tech comes out not once, but twice. The second time he installs a regular receive because I STILL HADN'T GOTTEN THE ACCESS CARD!!!

So now that my access card has been received and installed, I no longer have use for the regular receiver, so I call to have them come get it. After several attempts at getting the limited-English-speaking flunkie on the phone to understand what it was I needed to have done, he then transfers me (yet again) to another department.

Or at least he was s'posed to transfer me.

I never made it.

After several minutes of hearing someone talking in the background, the phone is disconnected. That is thirty minutes of my life I'll never get back. Now I've got to try and explain to yet someone else exactly what it is I need accomplished.

AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

PSA: FYI, they keep firetrucks behind those big doors at the fire station. Just in case you weren't quite clear on the matter.