Trolling For Tinfoil
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
Memorial Day
Memorial Day has passed with the requisite sacrificing of the chicken and hot dogs, family and friends. (Well- family and friends weren't exactly sacrificed, but you get the point, I'm sure. )

I am indeed grateful.

As a history buff, I am fascinated by the sacrifices and struggles made by ordinary men and women who by all other accounts were ordinary people, just like you and I.

Most of the "heroes" I've met would rather have not been heroes at all- The emotional price some have paid was almost too great and while people like myself hold them in awe, they would give almost anything just to be normal. They were glad to have been useful in most cases, and most certainly do not regret the actions they took, but some it would seem- Would just like to be a store clerk or an accountant as opposed to scarred hero.

It is this aspect of the military I admire most- The ability to endure, to withstand and to serve an ideal which at times seems to be fading. The American dream is still alive and well, but we have paid a price for the social upheaval we underwent in the sixties. Soldiers are still wary of a fickle public turning on them, to be scorned or spit upon. The ribbon campaigns and contact with family and friends has dampened some of that, but the left seems intent on keeping it alive.

Soldiers are not perfect. Far from it- An Army will always behave as armies- or rather- people do under great stress. Some will have the worst brought out in them, others will have moments of gallantry and bravery they will forever be measured against. Nonetheless, our servicemen and women are doing remarkably well because deep down- We still believe Americans are good.
I too, believe we are- Unfortunately the Arab world has created in us all that they see as wrong with the world. Zionists and Americans represent all the evil, wrapped up neatly and delivered to their doorstep, ready made to scorn and destroy, guilt-free. This is easier than dealing with the issues for themselves. Explosives are a quick solution when compared to the tedious democratic process.

We have endured worse, and we will prevail- in spite of and because of our national self. The Armed forces are still comprised of citizen soldiers, and this is our greatest strength.

Friday, May 27, 2005
Lion: 42 Midgets: 0
What do you get when you mix a Lion and a bunch of drunken midgets? The following.

The fight was called in only 12 minutes, after which 28 fighters were declared dead, while the other 14 suffered severe injuries including broken bones and lost limbs, rendering them unable to fight back.

Darwin has a sick sense of humor.

Pfft... What bias?
I hate to say it, but Tom DeLay has a point.

I'm no fan of DeLay as a rule, and he really needs to STFU sometimes, but this is just a flaming crock of poop, and a cheap shot.

The controversy centers around Wednesday's episode in which a police officer investigating a murder of a federal judge suggested putting out an all points bulletin for "somebody in a Tom DeLay T-shirt."

The left leaning TV could be seen looking at the sky, whistling and feigning surprise at his outrage.

I really like this one. "But I do congratulate Congressman DeLay for switching the spotlight from his own problems to an episode of a TV show."

"Who, us?" Pure, wide-eyed innocence. "Golly."

What's next? Surreptitious high fives to Howard Dean, and a finger drawn across the neck when DeLay looks their way?

I think DeLay should toilet paper the producer's house.

Late night musings.
Okay.. I lied.

I should never make any predictions about how often I'm going to post. I thought for sure this week would suck all the energy out of me, and I'd resort to short, irratable quickies.

This link I posted earlier has got me thinking about what we could be in store for- The left has nothing to focus their energy on right now, so that leaves protests in front of recruiting stations, hard cheap shots in milblog comments and general snottiness to fill the void in their fruitless little lives.

Protesting in front of recruiting stations has to be the biggest irony of all, and they're too self righteous to see it. they're using a social activity (that's all protests are- A big fuzzy get together) to protest the signing up of students for a military commitment.

Commitment- The left thinks they're committed, but they're just isolationists. They think their "voice" needs to be heard, but it's just talk.

Talk is dirt cheap and we're full up here, kids.

I would love to compare their lives with that of a soldier's family. The left, by comparison knows nothing of "commitment", no clue what separation, debt and family hardship is.

They are losing, and they're turning on my beloved military. (Holy crap, that pisses me off, and I'll be damned if I stand passively by should I ever hear some self-righteous prick say anything disparaging to a soldier returning home.)
If they can't win by other means, they are turning back the pages to the sixties all over again this time by attempting to poison morale. I shudder to think what that means if they do this en masse.

"Look! We won!" they'll say. "We finally made the soldiers see reason, and the power of the people is not to be denied.."

No- What they are trying to do is make things so miserable for those in the service, giving them the impression that they have no support at home so that a tough job will become nearly impossible. They're not all that fond of the military anyway, so if they pull the rug out from under them- Eh.. So what.

Back then, the left were the ones shouting "Baby Killers" and spitting on soldiers in uniform. They blamed everyone in uniform for the atrocities committed by a few. Hell, I didn't base my perception of the entire left on Charles Manson and Ted Kennedy- But that didn't stop them.

I fear this attitude isn't far away and destined to happen all over again.

God forbid Bush succeed. That's the heart of the whole issue. You can take any stance they have, any action and boil it down to that sentence. He must not succeed. Ever.

They need to be right, at any cost. Any cost at all.

Thursday, May 26, 2005
I played hooky today.

Burned a personal day, slept waaaay too long and it's flippin' gorgeous outside. Blue skies, light breeze, and the windows in the house are open, letting the wind blow through.

I then started poking around the web to see what's going on, stopped by Major K's site and found this.

If you've clicked on the link, I'd bet you're seeing red, but all I can do is shake my head.

He's trying way too hard to be controversial. Something has snapped in this guy's head somewhere and he's decided that negative attention is better than no attention at all. This is the kind of kid that got too many swirlies in high school, and found that the best revenge is to be annoying. Apparently getting your ass kicked one too many times has yielded a fetish for asshattery.

Check out his pictures- Not the inflammatory ones, but his own pictures, and you'll get the idea pretty quick. Mother's basement has provided a safe sanctuary.

Feh.. Even douchebags have rights. We can't selectively choose who gets freedom of speech, who gets to enjoy hard won freedom, and who lines up against us.

Wednesday, May 25, 2005
Sleep Deprivation

Not sleep deprived yet- However, tomorrow I will be. Tonite is the first of four consecutive nights at the local Holliday Inn, and should be.. well- Long.

By Friday morning, I will no doubt fall asleep putting my shoes on (yes- It has happened before..) trudge out the door and all but put my head under the coffee maker down at the convenience store.

I will then crawl back into my truck, blast some really cheesy "BiffandButtwipe" morning show and schlep on in to work. I will stare at my computer screen, mis-type my password three times, lock myself out, and go outside and have a cigarette. Work blows on days like that, but ya never know- I might get through it okay without deleting someones hard drive, crashing the network or snapping at some poor slob who decides it would be a good time to tell me his life story instead of getting to the fucking point.

My biggest pet peeve is people who blather on and on and on. Somewhere buried deeply in the midst of that noise (which sounds a lot like Charlie Brown's mother's voice..) lies a clue as to why you are standing in front of me. I do not have the patience to play verbal "Where's Waldo" just to figure out why you are standing there stealing my precious oxygen.

I will make you go away so I can continue staring into space lamenting my lack of sleep. You want help?

Here's the drill-

Who. What. Where.

That's all I need. Really.
Do NOT build me a clock lovingly crafted from trees raised from saplings in your back yard chosen carefully for texture, grain and strength, molded skillfully together with metal, hand forged in your basement... Just to tell me what fucking time it is.

Get. to. the. Point. Do not slowly suck the life force from me with pointless chatter not immediately relevant to the issue at hand.
I will then deal with said issue much faster and in a much better mood than if you were to stand there and expect me to care abut how it makes you feel when it happened.

See how easy that is?

Monday, May 23, 2005
Busy busy..
I'll be on blog hiatus for a few days-

The band has a four-day stand this week, I have other odd commitments which will only leave time for me to blog a blurb or two from work.

I don't really like to blog on company time. I feel guilty, which is prolly a good thing as my employer is a tad paranoid to begin with- in addition to the fact that other bloggers have been dismissed for blogging.
Me likey da money and I needs it, I do.

Sooooo... If I do post, it may be some irratable tripe, dashed off in the throes of a sleep deprived caffeine jag, and we may all regret it later.

Friday, May 20, 2005
Bass, live music and such.

It’s a wedding weekend-

I have a gig immediately following the wedding, so I will have to cut the festivities short, scurry out the door and go entertain the drunken masses.

Okay, more like smallish drunken mob.

A small gaggle of inebriated rhythmically challenged club-goers.

I need a break from the music scene.. I hardly ever pick up my bass and play it for fun like I used to. I used to love the solidity of the instrument, the lower range vibrations resonating in my hands, against my chest. I never even used to plug it in much sitting on the sofa, mindlessly running scales- which probably explains why I wear it so high up against my chest and play so hard. Technique is an inexact science, more of an art, really. Some guys play bass with picks, but I’m a finger-style snob.

I still like playing live, once I’m there- but getting motivated for a gig is an effort. I’m a little annoyed at having to haul my gear, set it up, and lug other heavy-ass chunks of equipment necessary to make sound. After 16 years this part has gotten old.

Playing live is an assault on the senses. I have a reflexive reaction once I hit the stage and it still elicits a pavlovian response.

The whip-crack of the drumsticks giving a four-count snaps me out of my funk and I go into auto-adrenaline, hands locking into position, eying the audience to gauge the mood of the crowd, peripheral vision working to keep an eye on my bandmates looking for the subtle cues as to what’s going on. The lights create a cocoon effect, separating you from the audience in a bubble-like shield, shimmering as it picks up the smoke in the air.

This is what gives stage lights their effect on a good night- The crowd is big, smoking and gyrating to the sounds you make, and the more they smoke, the more the stage lights lend the surreal effect to the show. Reds and blues and beams of yellow crisscross the stage, the audience close up looking like ghosts in the mist, the ones further back looking like a writhing shapeless mass, occasionally lit by neon signs.

The kick drum is more palpable, punching you in the back of your calves, air moving out of the sound hole, my bass amp a semi-audible roar, lights blinking just behind the beat as the limiters kick in trying to keep the bass from feeding on the speakers in a self-destructive frenzy.

Bass amps up close sound like crap- The best part of your tone is carried away from you, developing about ten feet away and at shin level, radiating out from there to rattle the bottles on the bar in the back of the room. It’s hard not to keep dialing in more mid-range in order to cut through the din, countering the effects of hearing fatigue. Do that too much throughout the night and you lose all your presence, authority and will sound like a French horn in heat. All mids and no bass is great for solo jazz but in a full on club settings you need presence, clarity and the ability to vibrate the room.

I used to chuckle as women figured out they could actually get off, sitting on the ’18 subs- The bar would get full, they’d get tired and grab a seat on a floor cabinet loaded with two 18 inch JBL’s fed by 1000 watt carver amps. It was hard to get them to move, and we had a little bunch that would line up and sit on the speakers about two songs into the third set every where we went- I think they liked the sound man more than us at that point….

Playing live can be work if the crowd just isn’t “feeling you”. I’ve been playing long enough that I need the interaction with the crowd to get my musical rocks off, like a junkie- more or less. I used to giggle at the fact that they let me play at all in front of people, and then to get paid? Well- Shit. That was better than sex. In contrast, nothing’s worse than playing your ass off and all but hearing crickets after the big finish to a song. That will suck the life out of you, and at that point you feel like you should be getting paid.

To be continued…

Wednesday, May 18, 2005
Skeptics unite- Carefully, and from a distance.
I'm a natural born skeptic.

I know everyone has been giving Newsweek the beatdown and I really, really want to join in and kick the snot out of the troubled icon of the MSM, but that reaction alone makes me hit my mental parachute.

Why? My brain must work funny.
Every time I fell for something simply because I wanted it to be true, I've gotten burned.

One phrase in particular has caught my ear in all the hub-bub concerning the "source". I haven't checked the left side of the blogosphere, but I'm sure this has not gone unnoticed.

The source backed away.

Let me dwell on the implications of that simple statement for a moment, and for the right-sided hardcore press-hating reader- Brace yourself and count to ten.

They are rightfully being accused of sloppy journalism, but the fact that a source backed away as opposed to saying, "nope- didn't happen. I read it wrong." is a very subtle and crucial difference.

I am not naive enough to think for a minute that the media would refrain and NOT report such a story for the sake of the impact it could have on the troops. Those days died in the Tet offensive. However, the fact that the White House held back for a day or two tells me that they did a little fact checking of their own. It may or may not have given them a clue as to who the source was. (That was my token "Tinfoil Hat" moment..) Did they get to the source causing him to back down and go "rabbit" on them? Who knows?

Now- Even IF the story has merit- Should they have reported it? How should they have handled it?

Lotsa questions, and fewer answers, but if they had any other motive other than fame, money and an anti- administration agenda they would have held back and told them to fix it fast and make it right lest they blow the lid off.

That's the part that makes it so much fun to kick them when they're down.

The sound of silence
I got in to work this morning, got the first few menial tasks out of the way, and started poking around the blogosphere checking all the heavy hitters hoping to absorb their take on the Angry Scottsman.
Nada. Nothing. Silencio. (At least from the right side of the spectrum....) Glenn Reynolds didn't have much, but he did have this. That deafenng silence amongst the right side tells me more than any scathing critique.
The left side of the spectrum, however- They all but creamed themselves.

That fact alone is enough to set my right knee to jerking reflexively, but I had to stand back and assess my original thoughts on the Galloway testimony. He's a tough, belligerent character, and he came in and leveled an old-fashioned full-on broadside. Just like the british man 'o war of old, there was lots of smoke and lots of noise, but how much of what he said made a dent? I think I'll wait untill the smoke and noise fade away a bit to see what happens next, but at least I give credit to the chairman for not falling out of his chair during the onslaught.

So- Fiery rhetoric notwithstanding- Did he answer all the questions? Heeelll no. He went back on the offense , handily deflecting the questions.

Did he make valid points concerning the credibility of our intelligence? Yep. Dead on.

So, in short- Is the case taking on water? Most definitely, but I don't think he sunk it just yet.

I am quoting the Scottsman direct here:

Under repeated questioning, Mr Galloway conceded that Mr Zureikat did have extensive business dealings with the Saddam regime but, challenged over whether his friend’s generous contributions to the Mariam Appeal - £900,000 by his own previous assessments - could have come from the sale of oil, he stonewalled.

Urged to say if he would repay the cash if it could be proved to have come from such a source, he again ducked the question. Mr Galloway first met Mr Zureikat, a Jordanian businessman, through his now-estranged wife Amineh Abu-Zayyad, who had attended the same university in Jordan. The men became friends and set up the Mariam Appeal in 1998.

That, my friends is where the comittee has him, IF they can keep him from wriggling out from under their thumb. That may prove hard to do, but he could be seen crowing all over the pundit circuit, and he may come in over-confident next time.

Let's hope so.

Tuesday, May 17, 2005
An angry scottish man is a thing to behold.
I'm watching this unfold on CNN, and it struck me that an angry man with a scottish accent is very convincing.
(I doubt it would have the same punch if he had your standard british upper-crust accent, losing it's punch in the mellow vagueness so prevalent in the British House of Commons....)

Of course- He could be talking smack, but he just carpet-bombed the comittee with that brogue of his.

Saturday, May 14, 2005
Cheap theories on blogging

I've snooping around the blogosphere, trying to see what other blogs have that I don't, immediately noting two glaring differences.
Namely, readers and content.
I haven't really found my voice yet, and I’m somedays at a loss for content, not wanting to put up link after link of articles already bludgeoned to death by the heavy hitters who by the very act of linking can crush a server like a soda can.

Sooooo… My little impromptu research has yielded the following-

Rob’s cheap theories on blogging-

1) Anyone is interesting when studied close enough.

I’ve found a few blogs who interest me because they don't really have a theme. They are literally journals of ordinary people living ordinary lives- Who happen to write well. The very act of writing about mundane things in an interesting way has a way of sucking me in just to see what happens next.

2) There appears to be a new phenomenon- “Blog-Groupies”

Some blogs have become a de-facto homeless shelter for would-be bloggers who write mini-epics in the comments, or blatant plugs for their own blogs. Others still are full of sycophants sucking up to the host- Blog-groupies, if you will. (Sorry- no links to egregious comment-whoring)

3) Buckshot vs. Sniper round.

There are those who post three or four quick blurbs per day about nothing much as opposed to a single well-aimed post with substance every few days. (I prefer substance, but I often fall short.)

4) Link-a-palooza in the sidebar.

Blogrolls are getting out of control. There’s a few who have sidebars so long it would take days to visit all their "closest" blog- buddies, most of whom have never been read more than once by the host blogger. I have a very select few in my sidebar, for various reasons but mostly because I read them daily. Blogrolls are blatant link-whoring, and it’s certainly a forgivable infraction, but Jeez… Enough already.

That's the short list- I do hereby promise to become guilty of all the above at one time or another.

Thursday, May 12, 2005
Yet another rant- With graphics, even!
With all the death and destruction going on in the Iraq, on the part of the Iraqis or U.S. Soldiers, I am constantly amazed at the gall of the Left.
I'm not sure which one makes them happier- The fact that they can bring up "mission accomplished", or the fact that soldiers are dying.

It's a harsh charge to level, but I've seen enough. When soldiers die, it's a sarcastic 'Look how well the war is going" and when bombs go off it's "quagmire" all the while failing to realize themselves that this isn't about the war-
It's about them being right. They will never, ever allow themselves to be wrong, no matter what lengths they have to go to to make it so.

They don't really care about the tragedy of a lost soldier and his family- That is purely secondary to the primary issue in their minds which is "see, I told you so". Every death brings a small flicker of private pleasure in their minds, proving them "right" Their reputations are at stake, they, the enlightened ones, the dreamers, who do nothing but bitch from the cheap seats. Enlistments are down?
Haw, haw.

Trumpeting the fact that enlistments are down is a lot like discovering elephant poop instead of the great white elephant in the middle of the room. Pure genius. If a young person can get a job in the safety of the states, why would he subject himself to the possibility of duty in Iraq? People are still volunteering. As in- Signing up willingly. Showing up knowing what the risks may well be, in spite of all your efforts.

To the left, I pose this question- (again)
What are you doing? You could join the peace corps, if you thought your voice wasn't being heard- I could get behind that, and you'd get some dirt under your nails and probably a better idea of what your ideals are worth. Put them to the test. DO SOMETHING besides run your mouth. The vast majority of you are barely even part time, at that- The occasional saturday afternoon, and every now and then you really gird your loins and go on a bus trip and wave signs and sing songs.

That is almost so pointless as to be beneath contempt.

Wise? Enlightened? You fail to grasp such a simple concept as this; Speech and peacefull assembly are protected here in the U.S. If you were in danger of being imprisoned, beaten and tortured, I would give you the measure of respect you so desperately crave. (Getting arrested and a facefull of pepper pray is not being beaten and tortured, BTW.)

You have lost touch with America, you have lost your dignity and you have all but lost your mind.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again:
In short-

Tuesday, May 10, 2005
I grew up in a house full of women.
Three sisters, which equals four mothers, six pairs of eyes in the back of the head and a crap load of intuition. A whole lot of love, don't get me wrong, but "feminine mystique" is about as real as Santa Claus to me.

My childhood?
I couldn't get away with nuthin'.

However, I learned a lot about women- (some of which I wish I hadn't..) but I also learned when to just shut up and go with the flow. (No pun intended..) Nothing will suck the life out of a thirteen year old boy like having to run to the 7-11 for tampons and panty hose.

Especially when your friends see you.

More than once.

Your'e more afraid of coming home without the panty hose and tampons than you are of your friends beating the crap out of you.

I learned to avoid it by throwing a fit, buying the wrong size, or disapearing outright but there were times when necessity outwheighed my whining, as women in close proximity with each other will run on the same cycle. I was outgunned, outnumbered and definitely not mean enough.
Things I believe about women-
  1. They will discuss any body function- in excruciating detail- with each other provided the women outnumber the men in the room. I do mean ANY body function.
  2. They will also discuss their sex lives in same graphic manner- again, provided they outnumber the men. (If you think your sex life is private between you and your Wife/GF, guess again, bucko. Her best friend AND all of her friends know how well, how often, and the answer to the size question..)
  3. They date by comparison. In other words: If Jane has a boyfriend who sings to her or buys her Teddy Bears, Jill will automatically scan the memory banks to see when the last time you bought her a teddy bear. (Never mind the fact that he may be a homeless musician, bribing his way out of his last binge with coke and hookers..That's not the point.)
  4. They cheat just as much as men, for the same reasons- But- They will close ranks when it happens to them, and better at excusing it when it's their turn. (As a musician, I can tell you that "girls night out" can sometimes get pretty ugly. I've been on the recieving end more than once, and they hide important pieces of jewelry just as well as men do..)
  5. They have more going on in their heads at any given time than we do all day. (They can juggle an amazing amount of things and remain totally focused.)
  6. If you've ever walked by a group of women and wondered what they're talking about, you can bet the conversation is centered around one of three things: Babies or children, men, or sex. That's it. There are smaller-sub categories, but that's pretty much it.
  7. Once they figure you out- You're done. Game over, roll over and play dead, or hang on for the ride. (Fortunately, they make us a whole lot more complex than we really are, so this can take a while, and it's not necessarily a bad thing when they do figure us out.)
This is not to say that I harbor some deep dislike of women, but I do know them pretty well.
To know them is still to love them.

Saturday, May 07, 2005
The Life Nocturnal

The band is off this weekend, which finds me living the life nocturnal with nothing better to do. Hence, don’t be surprised if you see some extra posts, much ado about nothing and some random silly pictures. Boredom has a price, so I shall foist its consequences off on you, the unlucky reader.

I played a duo gig on Cinco de Mayo for a bunch of Poker widows at the local Eagles. Women slightly past their prime all the way to well past menopause sat around drinking scotch on the rocks and wine coolers ogling our guitarist with hard, speculative eyes. In addition to being a truly frightening musician, he’s also an amateur body builder; one of those people who can’t seem to do anything halfway.

That trait is probably what makes him so freakishly good on the guitar, pushing him to compete in one of those “look-what-I’ve-done-to-myself” contests this weekend, his body undergoing dietary torture in an effort to look like a thin-skinned sack of apples. The things one has to do to get your body to look like that is an exercise in self-flagellation, a masochistic art in and of itself.

Me? I’d listlessly pedal a stationary bike more often if they let you smoke and drink coffee in the process.

I manage about four months of truly manic workouts every year, until my body and I come to terms that I don’t heal as fast as I used to. “Fighting thru the pain” has consequences now, and it may take six months to undo the wreckage caused by foolishly ignoring my body’s protests.

Getting old blows.


Jim from Snooze Button Dreams has foolishly agreed to let me- along with other lucky contestants- Blogsit in his absence.

I shall do my best.

Wednesday, May 04, 2005
Jingoism- It's the new thang in slang!
I have a hard time with those on the Left who dismiss any show of support and solidarity for the troops as "mindless jingoism". This is just ordinary irritation in my book- Annoyance that everyone isn't jumping on their bandwagon, that people aren't joining the "cause". Jingoism is the new catch phrase, joining "fascist" and "Nazi" in the New Left lexicon.

Here again, is my oft-repeated theme that the Left is out of touch. At one time, they represented a huge segment of the population; that being the young, politically motivated baby-boomers who had something to say about being drafted in a war they really couldn't lay claim to. They marched, forced change and left a mark on society not because they were right per se, but because there were too many too ignore.

America was taken by surprise at the time, but that has since worn off. Protests are passe; a relic of a bygone era, but the left has romanticized the 60's to the point where we are immune to them, and they're too fond of them to let go.

They're going after the soldiers- Big mistake. The soldiers are the pointy end of the spear.. You go after the hands that hold the spear, you don't saw into the handle to weaken it. You may need that spear someday, and I just know they'll be the ones screaming the loudest, claiming dereliction of duty, and whatever else they can comeup with that sounds as drastic and dramatic as they can make it.

You will always find a soldier who doesn't like what he does, or how long he's been there. (If he gives an interview, well then so much the better for the MSM.) The left hee-haws behind their sleeves and all but point and giggle.

It's really all they have to work with. Imagine their frustration, exiled into political echo chambers full of people just like themselves, because no one else is listening. To add insult to injury they were beaten (twice) by a man they love to lampoon as a chimp, a functional illiterate barely able to speak a complete sentence without mangling the english language.
They have yet to come to terms with this harsh new reality.

Monday, May 02, 2005
My juvenile sense of humor.

In honor of all the incessant ruminations offered up by the punditry over Michael Jackson, I offer you a picture that has been cracking me up since I found it on Fark. (I never claimed to be original.. I steal all my pics from there- Except the troll- He was snagged off a google image search.)

I am a firm believer in "innocent until proven guilty".
However- Having met a fair amount of famous people, I was always more interested in watching how people react to them: Otherwise normal people will all but pee themselves like exited puppies when they meet someone famous. After the giddiness wears off, you watch them try to ingratiate themselves in sometimes absurd ways. I once heard a woman tell everyone within earshot that she'd "Just heard her pee", the "her" being a semi-famous country singer who just so happened to need to use the facilities adjacent to her. She then went up to bond with said countrified diva over their shared urinary adventure, and was somewhat hurt by her cold, blank stare.

I smell an element of gold-digging to this trial. But.... I have also yet to be proven wrong when applying the adage of "where there's smoke, there's fire" ..
There's been a whole lotta smoke coming from Neverland ranch over the years, so if the end result is increased difficulty in luring more little kids into his child trap- Well, good.

Then, there's also been a whole lot of shrieking from the left concerning the minuteman project-
They're demonizing- as usual. I've heard "vigilante" and the ever popular "racism", but I can't help but snigger derisively when I see this picture of the self appointed "Legal Observers". A picture truly is worth a thousand words.

Okay, a thousand and.. However many is in the following question:
Is this guy there to catalog the injustice, or to make sure his source isn't cut off?

According to the ACLU: "Written accounts of the day's events were submitted- Disturbing reports of rampant "Jack-Booted Thuggery", several requests for "more brownies" and one titled 'Ode to Cheetos'".

Sunday, May 01, 2005
Sunday after-action report
It has been a looo-oo-oong week.

In addition to working my day job, I moonlight in a hobby band that plays mostly weekends with the occasional 4 day stand at the local Holliday Inn. Those jobs are nice, since they only come around every 4-6 weeks, and the cash infusion is certainly welcome, but good lord, they kick my ass. I used to do this for a living, paying all my bills and some rather large bar tabs in this manner, but after 15 years I've gotten older, have a day job and do it as a part-time source of income. Not a bad way to get paid, but-do it for as long as I have, and it gets old after four consecutive days.
I have a recliner and remote control now, which I have come to cherish deeply; for we have become extremely close. I missed them this week, and I am certain they felt unused and unloved.

I also haven't had much time for blogging- for which I apologize- but, I need my beauty sleep. In addition to all that insanity I get up on Sunday mornings to play in the group at my church which is a nice break from playing in bars. Needless to say, I was hardly filled with the spirit this morning, but it beats playing for drunks after four straight days and I at least feel like I'm doing something worthwile. I may not be a bible thumper, but I like the vibe, as long as I stay away from the church politics and those that feel a need to shoestring tackle you and "witness".

We don't have too many of those, (thank goodness) since I don't take well to prosleytizing, so I'm still welcome. There are few things worse than being button-holed by some well-meaning, but out of touch self appointed bearers of the torch. I have gotten better- I don't bait the J.W's when they come around any more- I have grown up enough to respect their commitment to their faith, but don't interrupt my down time with your "message" or you will get a door shut in your face. If I'm in a really good mood, you'll get a "No thanks- I think the neighbors are home, and they'd love to hear from you..".
Last time I did that when they'd been banging on their P.O.S cars in their garage until 3am the night before.
I hope the ever-eager J.W's knocked loud and long.

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