South Park SuperfriendsAnd your blast from the past:
The Most Popular Story in the Jblogosphere
Telling The Kids That You Are Going To Die
This Made Me Smile
Caught My Eye- Hookers, Robots & More
When Does A Cow Not Say Moo
Midnight Hour Musings
What is Your Dream Job?
And that is why I am declaring it to be January's most popular story in the Jblogosphere. If you haven't seen it here it is again.
TAMPA, Florida (AP) -- A college student who told police she had been raped was jailed for two days after officers found an old warrant accusing her of failing to pay restitution for a 2003 theft arrest.
While she was behind bars, a jail worker refused to give her a second dose of the morning-after contraceptive pill because of the worker's religious convictions, the college student's attorney said.The 21-year-old woman was released Monday only after attorney Vic Moore reported her plight to the local media.
"Shocked. Stunned. Outraged. I don't have words to describe it," Moore said. "She is not a victim of any one person. She is a victim of the system. There's just got to be some humanity involved when it's a victim of rape."
Moore said the young woman was not allowed to take the second emergency contraceptive pill until Monday afternoon, a day late, after reporters called police and jail officials.
Tampa Police Chief Steve Hogue said the arrest led to a new policy Tuesday that tells officers not to arrest a crime victim who has suffered injury or mental trauma whenever "reasonably possible." The agency also apologized to the student.
"Obviously, any policy that allows a sexual battery victim to spend a night in jail is a flawed policy," police spokeswoman Laura McElroy said.
The woman is not being identified by The Associated Press because she reported being the victim of a sex crime.
Tampa attorney Jennifer D'Angelo, who represents the jail worker, said Tuesday that her client is prohibited from giving inmates any medication without specific orders. The worker insists she never discussed religion with the woman who reported being raped."
"Dad, what's wrong?" he asked.
Jim Chamernik was too choked up to respond. After 18 months of grasping for answers, he and his wife, Aimee, finally had an explanation for symptoms Aimee had been having -- slurred speech and weakness in her right arm among them. The diagnosis was Lou Gehrig's disease, a degenerative condition of the nervous system, also known as ALS.
There is no cure. But how could they explain that to their eldest son, the first in the family to notice his mom's slurring, when she read him bedtime stories? How, they wondered, do you tell a child that his mom is dying?
(P.S. This is not an endorsement of said practice. My in-house counsel made me write that.)
Robot Parking Garage to Open in New York
Would you trust a robot to park your car? The question will confront New Yorkers in February as the city's first robotic parking opens in Chinatown. The technology has had a good track record overseas, but the only other public robotic garage in the United States has been troublesome, dropping vehicles and trapping cars because of technical glitches.
Related: Volkswagen Storage Facility
Woman MP demands hookers for the troops
A top female politician ín Holland wants Dutch prostitutes sent abroad with the troops to help them relax.
Annemarie Jorritsma, a politician for the centre-right People's Party for Freedom and Democracy (VVD) and the mayor of the town of Almere, went on national Dutch TV to demand the 'extra benefits' for soldiers.
She added: "The army must think about how their soldiers can let off some steam."
How about some PandaMonium.
Animals make much the same sounds around the world, but each language expresses them differently. English and French cows sound the same, but not in English and French! Explore the sounds of the world's languages through the sounds of the world's animals.Example:
- Afrikaans: moe-moe
- Albanian: mu
- Arabic (Algeria): mooooooo
- Bengali: hamba
- Catalan: muuuu
- Chinese (Mandarin): mu mu
- Croatian: muuuu
- Danish: muh
- Dutch: boeh
- English: moo
- English (Old English): Oxa hlewð.
- Esperanto: muu
- Estonian: muu
- Finnish: ammuu
- French: meuh
- German: mmuuh
- Greek: moo
- Hebrew: moo
- Hindi: mo:-mo:
Catherine N. Ball
Associate Professor, Department of Linguistics
Washington DC 20057
Frankly I spend too much time here at the PC so it gives me another excuse to get away and disconnect from the net. There is something quite nice about sitting in an overstuffed chair to do nothing but read.
There are a couple of problems with that. The first is trying to find the quiet moments in which do said reading. The second is that every time I open a magazine I spend the next ten minutes cleaning up the 27 subscription cards that pop out. That leads me to my next comment.
Is it just me or does every magazine begin soliciting a renewal from you two weeks after your subscription begins. Newsweek does this all the time. I sign up for a year and then three weeks into the new year they begin bombarding me with special offers for renewing my subscription.
It makes me wonder how much money they spend on filling the magazine with content I want to read versus how much they spend to try and grab more eyeballs. There is something not quite right with this formula.
I also very much enjoy writing stories about all sorts of stuff. It may come as a surprise to some of you, but some of the things that appear here are fiction. Now that I have switched over to the Beta version I am labeling them as Fragments of Fiction.
If you are interested in reading any of it here is a link to a story that I have been working on for quite some time as well as a couple of pieces that I enjoy.
He Put a Gun To My Head
Stumbling Through Life
Me & The UItimate Fighter- Road Rage
Sometimes the hardest part of life is just living
Two Kinds of Pain
The Story of Two Souls
Fragments of Fiction- Version 178
It is quiet. Here in the dark I gain perspective on the events of the day. Sometimes my perspective is colored by the time. Sometimes the things that bother me feel worse, but that is not a frequent occurrence.
Even now years removed from college my inclination is to be up until 2 or 3. It is not so easily done. There are so many responsibilities. It is not just the kids or work, but the combination of the two. This leads me to my next complaint.
My fragile male ego is having trouble dealing with aging. I truly don't get too riled up at my hair loss. It is thinning, but I am no where close to bald. What bothers me is the gym. In particular running at the gym on the basketball court. I seem to be losing a step.
Some of it can be attributed to carrying extra weight, but not all of it. I am noticeably slower. Guys who shouldn't be able to blow by me are pulling away from me and those that used to be slower seem to be keeping up. I am working on a solution for this, but I am not real sure that I can take a 38 year old body that has been used and abused and turn it into a 25 year old. Not when it comes to speed. I can do it in a number of areas, but speed is doubtful.
Life at home has its moments. There is nothing like the terrible twos. Today we got to play all sorts of fun games. There was let's pee on dad's side of the bed and then there was let's poop in the tub.
On a side note I have an issue with the various words we use for our bathroom business. Maybe I'll stop and blog about it. Nah, I'll just include it here.
The words we use for this particular function are missing something. The expressions just don't ring true. Here is a short list of things you hear people say. If this is TMI kindly skip to the next post. It goes something like this:
I am going to take a ______________________.
Words that could be inserted in the blank include: Dump, bowel movement, shit, poop, crap, dukie, and or dootie.
Sorry, none of them work for me. Doesn't mean that I don't use some or all of them, but there is something not quite right there.
Moving on to the next post now.
Caffeinated Pastries- Add To the health score of your cravings.
DURHAM. N.C. Jan 27, 2007 (AP)— That cup of coffee just not getting it done anymore? How about a Buzz Donut or a Buzzed Bagel? That's what Doctor Robert Bohannon, a Durham, North Carolina, molecular scientist, has come up with. Bohannon says he's developed a way to add caffeine to baked goods, without the bitter taste of caffeine. Each piece of pastry is the equivalent of about two cups of coffee.
Doc Prescribes Penis Therapy
She was a 19-year-old trainee nurse when, suffering from depression, she was referred to a psychiatrist called William Kerr.In the privacy of the consulting room, she says, the doctor exposed himself to her, saying that 'this is what you need'.
The Best Public Restrooms in America
CINCINNATI, OH, April 20, 2006 – The finest restroom in America is at a Wendell’s restaurant in Westerville, Ohio - says the Internet public who cast online ballots in the 5th annual “America’s Best Restroom” contest presented by Cincinnati-based Cintas Corporation (Nasdaq: CTAS),
Yanagisawa calls women 'birth-giving machines'
MATSUE, Shimane Pref. (Kyodo) Health minister Hakuo Yanagisawa referred to women as "birth-giving machines" in a speech Saturday on welfare and health care.
Addressing prefectural assembly members of the Liberal Democratic Party in Matsue, the 71-year-old Yanagisawa touched on the nation's declining birthrate and said, "The number of women aged between 15 and 50 is fixed. Because the number of birth-giving machines and devices is fixed, all we can ask for is for them to do their best per head, although it may not be so appropriate to call them machines."
Something tells me that these types of comments are unlikely to be well received.
Sometimes that is because you do not know what that would be. And sometimes it is just because you haven't found a way to live your dream.
My question for you now is what is your dream job? If you are not currently doing it what do you intend to do to rectify that situation?
I look forward to hearing from you.
Of course it is still a major pain-in-the-ass to try and go back and label all of my old crap, but what can you do.
Also, I have found that I am not really sure how to label some posts. Random Thoughts is designed to be a bit of a catchall, but at the same time I would like to try and be specific. Again I will be sure to keep you posted.
Specifically it seems to have knocked out the names of some commenters and made them anonymous. I can't tell you why, just that it happened.
Also, I seem to have screwed up some of the labels. What that means is that some of my posts have an inaccurate label on them. It is kind of irritating, but there are worse things.
I'll keep you posted as things go along.
Read the whole thing. There is an awful lot to digest.
"Jimmy Carter writes a book calling Israel an Apartheid state, and despite the numerous reviews which point to the book’s unfairness and numerous errors of fact, the book rockets to the bestseller list. In the United States, not Egypt. It should be lost on no one that people tend to buy books that espouse positions with which they agree.
Who cares how Jimmy Carter tosses the Apartheid word around? We should care. Recall the comments of Jostein Gaarder, the author of “Sophie's World” and a well known Norwegian intellectual. Gaarder didn’t like Israel’s policies during this summer’s war in Lebanon. His reaction? “We could not recognize the Apartheid regime,” he recalls about South Africa, so therefore, “We no longer recognize the State of Israel. We need to get used to the idea: The State of Israel, in its current form, is history.”
When any other country in the world does something people object to, they object to the leader, or the policy. Does anyone opposing the war in Iraq say that the United States no longer has a right to exist? Or that Britain ought to be dismembered? Or that Turkey (an aptly named country if there ever was one) should be shunned because of its treatment of political opposition and its denial of the Armenian genocide?
One hundred and ten years after Herzl, Zionism has not brought normalcy to the Jews. Not in Israel, and not in Europe. Just ask the Jews of France, where the police removed Jewish kids from the Champs Elysees because they couldn’t keep them safe from the mobs of Muslim teenagers (how’s that for a repeat of a European precedent?). Or in Germany, where the first rabbi ordained since the war recently noted that he can’t wear a kippah in public because the far right now knows that they own the streets?
Israel has progressed, but the world hasn’t changed much. Normalcy hasn’t come. And it isn’t likely to. Exit Herzl and Nordau. Enter the desperation.
When faced with the realization that Zionism has brought neither safe refuge nor normalcy to the Jewish people, how hard is it to understand state of Israelis’ morale? “What’s the fight about?” they ask. If the experiment called the State of Israel still leaves us vulnerable both at home and throughout the world, why pay the price? Why send generation after generation to the front, with thousands of mothers and fathers waiting up at night, night after night after night, anxiously waiting for their son to call, so they’ll know he made it back once again? If we got security, or normalcy, then maybe it would be worth it. But all this, just to remain vulnerable? All this, just to remain the only country in the world without a right to be?
It’s not hard to understand the fact that there are no protesters in the streets. This is something way too big for mere protests.
The issue, of course, isn’t really Israel, or even Zionism. It’s the Jews. Again. Amos Oz has written with sadness about the irony that when his father was growing up in Europe, he saw signs that said “Jews Go Home to Palestine,” but that when he, Amos, was growing up in Palestine, the signs said “Jews out of Palestine.” Oz, one of Israel’s best known left-wing intellectuals, summarizes the unavoidable point. “Don’t be here. Don’t be there. In short, don’t be.” An exaggeration? I don’t think so. What did Gaarder call his editorial objecting to Israel’s military policy, claiming that Israel is now “history”? “God’s Chosen People.” How on earth is the issue of Israel’s conduct of the Lebanon war connected to “God’s Chosen People,” unless the issue really isn’t Israel?
Which leaves us with a decision – the Jews have to decide, once again, if we want to survive. If we want to make it, then we need to rekindle one of the basic premises of Zionism, and take matters into our own hands. It’s not enough to simply feel that we’re back where we started, 110 years ago. The question is what we’re going to do about it. The question is, how do we restore hope?
Amazingly, very few people, either in Israel or beyond, are talking about that. The tragedy of today’s situation is that you ask young American Jews to free associate with the word “Israel,” the first thing you’re likely to hear is “Palestinians,” or “war,” or “fence.” But the State wasn’t created for any of these things. Most young Jews, both in Israel and outside, can’t say an intelligent word about why the State was created. They might mention the Shoah. Or the refuge issue. But they’ll miss the major point – that the purpose of Israel was not Statehood. It was hope.
They don’t know, anymore, that the Zionist movement, and then the State, took as its national anthem a poem called “The Hope.” They know the melody, and Israelis know the words. But they have no idea what it’s about. They can’t begin to articulate the notion that Israel represented to Jews across the globe, after the worst century we’d known, life over death. Continuity instead of extermination. A homeland instead of exile. Rebirth instead of extinction.
They’re so consumed with the plight of the Palestinians (a horrific plight, obviously, that has to be addressed – as soon as the Palestinians make that their priority) that they don’t resonate at all to the pride Jews once felt about the rescue of Ethiopian Jews, or the rescue at Entebbe, or the technological prowess of Israeli companies, or by the now stereotypical tanned and hardened Israeli youth, stark contrasts to the common portrayal of Europe’s Jews as pale and passive. They don’t understand that it’s because hope – life over death – was at the core of this country that explains why there are still huge book fairs in this country, celebrating the mere simple fact that thousands of books are published each year in a language that 150 years ago, virtually no one in the world spoke. It was why dance became an integral part of this culture, and why Jews got excited about a song celebrating a sprinkler, written when the National Water Carrier project was completed. What person in their right mind sings about a sprinkler? Who dances to the idea of a sprinkler? Jews did, and do, when the sprinkler brings water from the north to the south, when it bring life to the desert, when it bespeaks not just the flow of water, but the possibility of hope when there could have been nothing but despair.
Songs like that strike our kids’ generation as kitsch, as relics of an era that’s long since gone. But we can’t afford the cynicism. What strikes them as kitsch was what struck Jews a generation ago as rebirth. If today’s Jews are ambivalent about the image of the Jew as soldier, other Jews understood until recently that the Jew as soldier, with all the complexity it would entail, meant that finally, Jews would determine their own fate. If there’s anything that Lebanon II, Iran, Judt, Gaarder, Carter and all the rest have in common, it’s that they afford us a reminder that once again, this place called hope, needs to take control of its destiny,.
If the government is hopelessly corrupt, then it won’t be enough to topple it (it will do that on its own). We’d better build an institution, maybe like Harvard’s Kennedy School, or France’s Ecole Nationale d'Administration, to finally train a decent cadre of leaders. If the system’s broken, let’s fix it.
If it’s unthinkable that more than half the world’s Jews could live in Ahmadenijad’s crosshairs, then we’d better figure out what we’re going to do. The world won’t stop him. Will we? What kind of power would we be willing to use to put an end to Iran’s nuclear capabilities? Would be it moral to use weapons we’ve never used if that’s what it would take? Would be it moral not to, if the future of the Jewish people is at stake? How much are the Jews willing to do in order to survive?
Hizbollah has no territorial quarrel with Israel, but still went to war. Hamas doesn’t recognize Israel’s right to exist, and says that it never will. Why the hand-wringing? Let’s pick borders, and defend them. That much, at least, Sharon understood. The rest of the world doesn’t like unilateralism? What, exactly, does the world actually like about us? The question ought not be what the world wants. The question is whether Zionism can reassert the basic question – what do we want?
We want a Jewish country, and we want a democracy. And we’ve got a huge Arab minority that is growing. Are we going to do something about that, something morally defensible? Can we have a State that is both Jewish and that is democratic? What would it take to have both? It wouldn’t be easy, and it wouldn’t all be pretty, but it could be done. Do we want to survive badly enough to start? Or even to ask the question?
Or how about poverty? Or an educational system badly in need of repair? Or the slave trade of women in this country? Does anyone really think that a state can generate hope without tackling those issues? Do we have it ourselves to roll up our sleeves and to get to work? Would it help if we understood finally that it’s not only about poor people, or literacy, or helpless women – but that it’s about hope, about a future? About the survival of the Jewish people?"
There's too many of you crying
Brother, brother, brother
There's far too many of you dying
You know we've got to find a way
To bring some lovin' here today - Ya
We don't need to escalate
You see, war is not the answer
For only love can conquer hate
You know we've got to find a way
To bring some lovin' here today"
It is a nice sentiment, I truly like it. The problem is that I don't believe that love conquers all. I wish that I could. I wish that I believed that people really could beat their swords into plowshares, but I don't. Some will lay down their weapons. Some will gladly reach across the lines and shake hands. But the problem is that there are people standing on the other side of the divide who will smile as they cut off your head. And that leads me into Iraq.
Iraq, Iraq, Iraq. I supported going in and even when we didn't find the WMDs I supported the war. But now I am not sure what to think. There is no doubt that things are bad there. I read enough alternative sources of news to know that there are success stories and that in some ways it is not as bad as it sounds.
That is not the issue. The question I ask myself is whether there are people there who are truly interested in what we have to offer. Are the huddled masses yearning to breathe free or are we just placing American soldiers in harms way for a limited return.
I have no doubt that countries like Iran are doing all that they can to foment discord and chaos. I am sure that they are working hard to create an untenable situation. But I wonder what we are doing to combat that.
In short, I am wondering what we are doing. I am not saying that we should cut and run. But I'd like to hear a coherent explanation of what we are doing and what we are trying to achieve. Right now it feels a bit like the ship is sailing according to the current and not per the captain's wishes and that is an uncomfortable feeling.
I just don't know.
Life in the Fast Lane
Ode To Billy Joe
Baby Grand (Duet With Ray Charles)
Billy Joel with Ray Charles
And So It Goes
Time Of The Season
Heart Full of Soul
Behind Blue Eyes
Everyone Have Fun Tonight
Whenever God Shines His Light
I Love A Piano
Runnin Down A Dream
Tina and Ike Turner
Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue (The Angry American)
Everybody Wants To Rule The World
Tears for Fears
I said a hip, a hop, the hippie, the hippie
To the hip hip hop, a you dont stop
The rock it to the bang bang boogie say up jumped the boogie
To the rhythm of the boogie, the beat
Now what you hear is not a test - I'm rappin to the beat
And me, the groove, and my friends are gonna try to move your feet
Ya see: I am Wonder Mike and I like to say hello
To the black, to the white, the red, and the brown, the purple and yellow
But first I gotta bang bang the boogie to the boogie
Say up jump the boogie to the bang bang boogie
Let's rock, you don't stop
Rock the rhythm that will make your body rock
Well, so far you've heard my voice but I brought two friends along
And next on the mike is my man Hank:
Come on, Hank, sing that song
(Performed by Big Bank Hank but written by Grandmaster Caz)
Check it out, I'm the C-A-S, an' the O-V-A
And the rest is F-L-Y
Ya see: I go by the code of the doctor of the mix
And these reasons I'll tell ya why
Ya see: I'm six foot one and I'm tons of fun
And I dress to a T
Ya see: I got more clothes than Muhammad Ali and I dress so viciously
I got bodyguards, I got two big cars
That definitely ain't the wack
I got a Lincoln Continental and a sunroof Cadillac
So after school, I take a dip in the pool
Which is really on the wall
I got a color TV, so I can see
The Knicks play basketball
Hear me talkin bout checkbooks, credit cards
More money than a sucker could ever spend
But I wouldn't give a sucker or a bum from the rucker
Not a dime til I made it again
Ya go: Hotel, Motel, whatcha gonna do today? (say what?)
Ya say: I'm gonna get a fly girl, gonna get some spankin,
Drive off in a def O.J.
Everybody go: Hotel, Motel, Holiday Inn
Say: If your girl starts acting up, then you take her friend
Master Gee, am I mellow?
It's on you so what you gonna do?
Well it's on n on n on on n on
The beat don't stop until the break of dawn
I said M-A-S, T-E-R, a G with a double E
I said I go by the unforgettable name
Of the man they call the Master Gee
Well, my name is known all over the world
By all the foxy ladies and the pretty girls
I'm goin down in history
As the baddest rapper there ever could be
Now I'm feelin the highs and ya feelin the lows
The beat starts gettin into your toes
Ya start poppin ya fingers and stompin your feet
And movin' your body while you're sittin in your seat
And then: Damn! Ya start doin the freak
I said: Damn! Right outta your seat
Then ya throw your hands high in the air
Ya rockin to the rhythm, shake your derriere
Ya rockin to the beat without a care
With the sureshot MC:s for the affair
Now, I'm not as tall as the rest of the gang
But I rap to the beat just the same
I got a little face and a pair of brown eyes
All I'm here to do ladies is hypnotize
Singin on n n on n on n on
The beat don't stop until the break of dawn
Singin on n n on n on on n on
Like a hot buttered a pop da pop da pop dibbie dibbie
Pop da pop pop ya don't dare stop,
Come alive y'all - gimme what ya got
I guess by now you can take a hunch
And find that i am the baby of the bunch
But that's okay - I still keep in stride
Cause all I'm here to do is just wiggle your behind
Singin on n n on n on n on
The beat don't stop until the break of dawn
Singin on n n on n on on n on
Rock rock y'all, throw it on the floor
I'm gonna freak ya here, I'm gonna freak ya there
I'm gonna move you outta this atmosphere
Cause I'm one of a kind and I'll shock your mind
I'll put tic-tic-tickets in your behind
I said 1-2-3-4, come on girls get on the floor
A-come alive y'all, a-gimme what ya got
Cause I'm guaranteed to make you rock
I said 1-2-3-4 tell me Wonder Mike what are you waitin for?
I said a hip hop, the hippie to the hippie
The hip hip hop, a you dont stop
The rock it to the bang bang boogie say up jumped the boogie
To the rhythm of the boogie, the beat
Skidelee beebop a we rock a scooby doo
And guess what America: we love you!
Cause ya rock and ya roll with so much soul,
You could rock till you're a hundred and one years old
I don't mean to brag, I don't mean to boast
But we like hot butter on our breakfast toast
Rock it up, baby bubbah
Baby bubbah to the boogie da bang bang da boogie
To the beat beat, it's so unique
Come on everybody and dance to the beat
I said a hip hop the hippie the hippie
To the hip hip hop, a you dont stop
Rock it out baby bubbah to the boogie da bang bang
The boogie to the boogie da beat
I said I can't wait til the end of the week
When I'm rappin to the rhythm of a groovy beat
And attempt to raise your body heat
Just blow your mind so that you can't speak
And do a thing but a rock and shuffle your feet
And let it change up to a dance called the freak
And when ya finally do come in to your rhythmic beat
Rest a little while so ya dont get weak
I know a man named Hank
He has more rhymes than a serious bank
So come on Hank, sing that song
To the rhythm of the boogie da bang bang da bong
(Performed by Big Bank Hank but Written by Grandmaster Caz)
Well, I'm Imp the Dimp, the ladies pimp
The women fight for my delight
But I'm the grandmaster with the three MC:s
That shock the house for the young ladies
And when you come inside, into the front
You do the freak, spank, and do the bump
And when the sucker MC:s try to prove a point
We're a treacherous trio, we're the serious joint
From sun to sun and from day to day
I sit down and write a brand new rhyme
Because they say that miracles never cease
I've created a devastating masterpiece
I'm gonna rock the mike til you can't resist
Everybody! I say it goes like this:
Well I was comin home late one dark afternoon
Reporter stopped me for a interview
She said she's heard stories and she's heard fables
That I'm vicious on the mike and the turntables
This young reporter I did adore
So I rocked a vicious rhyme like i never did before
She said "Damn, fly guy! I'm in love with you!
The Casanova legend must have been true!"
I said "By the way baby, what's your name?"
She said "I go by the name of Lois Lane,
And you could be my boyfiend, you surely can
Just let me quit my boyfriend called Superman"
I said "He's a fairy, I do suppose -
Flyin through the air in pantyhose
He may be very sexy or even cute
But he looks like a sucker in a blue and red suit!"
I said "You need a man who's got finesse
And his whole name across his chest
He may be able to fly all through the night
But can he rock a party til the early light?
He can't satisfy you with his little worm
But I can bust you out with my super sperm"
I go: Do it! I go: Do it! I go: Do it, do it, do it!
And I'm here, and I'm there, I'm Big Bank Hank, I'm everywhere
Just throw your hands up in the air
And party hardy like you just don't care
Let's do it, don't stop y'all, a-tick-a-tock y'all, you don't stop
I go: Hotel, Motel, whatcha gonna do today? (Say what?)
I'm gonna get a fly girl, gonna get some spank, drive off in a def O.J.
Everybody go: Hotel, Motel, Holiday Inn
You say: If your girl starts actin up, then you take her friend
I say skip, dive, what can I say?
I can't fit em all inside my O.J.
So I just take half and bust them out
I give the rest to Master Gee, so he could shock the house
It was twelve o'clock one Friday night
I was rockin to the beat, and feelin all right
Everybody was dancin on the floor
Doin' all the things they never did before
And then this fly fly girl with a sexy lean
She came into the bar, she came into the scene
As she traveled deeper inside the room
All the fellas checked out her white sassoon
She came up to the table, looked into my eyes
Then she turned around and shook her behind
So I said to myself, "It's time for me to release
My vicious rhyme, I call my masterpiece"
And now people in the house, this is just for you
A little rap to make you boogaloo
Now the group ya hear is called Phase Two
And let me tell ya somethin: we're a helluva crew
Once a week we're on the street
Just a-cuttin' the jams and making it free
For you to party ya got to have the moves
So we'll get right down and give you the groove
For you to dance you gotta be hype
So we'll get right down and make you rock
Now the system's on and the girls are there
Ya definitely have a rockin affair
But let me tell ya somethin there's still one fact:
That to have a party, ya got to have a rap
So when the party's over, you're makin it home
And tryin' to sleep before the break of dawn
And while ya sleepin' ya start to dream
And thinkin' how ya danced on the disco scene
My name appears in your mind
Yeah, a name you know that was right on time
It was Phase Two just a doin a do
Rockin' ya down cause ya know we could
To the rhythm of the beat that makes ya freak
Come alive girls, get on your feet
To the rhythm of the beat to the beat the beat
To the double beat beat that it makes ya freak
To the rhythm of the beat that says ya go on
On n on into the break of dawn
Now I got a man comin on right now
He's guaranteed to throw down
He goes by the name of Wonder Mike
Come on Wonder Mike, do what ya like
I say: A can of beer that's sweeter than honey,
Like a millionaire that has no money,
Like a rainy day that is not wet,
Like a gambling fiend that does not bet,
Like Dracula without his fangs,
Like the boogie to the boogie without the boogie bang,
Like collard greens that don't taste good,
Like a tree that's not made out of wood,
Like goin up and not comin down,
Is just like the beat without the sound no sound
To the beat beat, ya do the freak
Everybody just rock and dance to the beat
Have you ever went over a friend's house to eat
And the food just ain't no good?
I mean the macaroni's soggy, the peas are mushed
And the chicken tastes like wood
So you try to play it off like you think you can
By sayin' that you're full
And then your friend says: "Momma, he's just being polite
He ain't finished - uh uh, that's bull!"
So your heart starts pumpin and you think of a lie
And you say that you already ate
And your friend says: "Man - there's plenty of food!"
So you pile some more on your plate
While the stinky foods steamin, your mind starts to dreamin
Of the moment that it's time to leave
And then you look at your plate and your chicken's slowly rottin
Into something that looks like cheese
So you say: "That's it - I got to leave this place
I don't care what these people think
I'm just sittin here makin myself nauseous
With this ugly food that stinks"
So you bust out the door while it's still closed
Still sick from the food you ate
And then you run to the store for quick relief
From a bottle of Kaopectate
And then you call your friend two weeks later
To see how he has been
And he says: "I understand about the food,
Baby bubbah, but we're still friends"
With a hip hop the hippie to the hippie
The hip hip a hop a you don't stop the rockin
To the bang bang boogie
Say up jump the boogie to the rhythm of the boogie the beat
I said: Hank? Can ya rock?
Can ya rock to the rhythm that just dont stop?
Can ya hip me to the shoobie doo?
I said: Come on make the make the people move
(Performed by Big Bank Hank but Written by Grandmaster Caz)
I go to the halls and then ring the bell
Because I am the man with the clientele
And if ya ask me why I rock so well
A big bank, I got clientele
And from the time I was only six years old
I never forgot what I was told
It was the best advice that I ever had,
It came from my wise dear old dad
He said: "Sit down punk, I wanna talk to you
And don't say a word until I'm through
Now there's a time to laugh, a time to cry
A time to live and a time to die
A time to break and a time to chill
To act civilized or act real ill
But whatever ya do in your lifetime
Ya never let a MC steal your rhyme"
So from sixty six til this very day
I'll always remember what he had to say
So when the sucker MC:s try to chump my style
I let them know that I'm versatile
I got style, finesse and a little black book
That's filled with rhymes and I know you wanna look
But there's a thing that separates you from me
And that's called originality
Because my rhymes are on from what you heard
I didn't even bite and not a god damn word
And I say a little more later on tonight
So the sucker MC:s can bite all night
A-tick-a-tock y'all, a beat beat y'all
A lets rock y'all, ya don't stop
Ya go: Hotel, Motel, whatcha gonna do today? (Say what?)
Ya say: I'm gonna get a fly girl, gonna get some spankin, drive off in a def OJ
Everybody go: Hotel Motel, Holiday Inn
Ya say: If your girl starts acting up, then you take her friends
A like that y'all to the beat y'all
Beat beat y'all ya don't stop
A Master Gee? Am I mellow?
It's on you so whatcha gonna do
Well like Johnny Carson on the late show
A like Frankie Croker in stereo
Well like The Barkays singing "Holy Ghost"
The sounds to throw down, they're played the most
It's like my man Captain Sky
Whose name he earned with his super sperm
We rock and we don't stop
Get off y'all, I'm here to give you whatcha got
To the beat that it makes you freak
And come alive girl get on your feet
A like a Perry Mason without a case
Like Farrah Fawcett without her face
Like The Barkays on the mike
Like gettin right down for you tonight
Like movin your body so ya don't know how
Right to the rhythm and throw down
Like comin alive to the Master Gee
The brother who rocks so viciously
I said the age of one my life begun
At the age of two I was doin the do
At the age of three it was you and me
Rockin' to the sounds of the Master Gee
At the age of four I was on the floor
Givin' all the freaks what they bargained for
At the age of five I didn't take no jive
With the Master Gee it's all the way live
At the age of six I was a pickin up sticks
Rappin to the beat my stick was fixed
At the age of seven I was rockin in heaven dontcha know I went off
I got right on down to the beat you see
Gettin' right on down makin all the girls
Just take off their clothes to the beat the beat
To the double beat beat that makes you freak
At the age of eight I was really great
Cause every night you see I had a date
At the age of nine I was right on time
Cause every night I had a party rhyme
Goin' on n n on n on on n on
The beat don't stop until the break of dawn
A sayin' on n n on n on on n on
Like a hot buttered de pop de pop de pop
A saying on n n on n on on n on
A rock rock y'all, gimme whatcha got
Cause I'm a helluva man when I'm on the mike
I am the definite feast delight
I'm a helluva man when I'm on the mike
I am the definate feast delight
Come and meet the Master Gee you see
The brother who rocks so viciously
I'm gonna freak you here, I'm gonna do you there
I'm gonna move you out of this atmosphere
Cos I'm on, all time, and I'll shock your mind ..... (inaudible)
Master Gee, gettin it on
Takin' all the girls
PLANT CITY - Roger Swanson wants to walk again. Daina Roughgarden hopes to rid her body of nodules that could prove cancerous. Rocio Mazzetti desires to keep symptoms of multiple sclerosis at bay.
They each sought help this month inside a rust-colored house on Thonotosassa Road, home to the Central Florida outpost of the Hallelujah Acres Lifestyle Center. For about $1,200 a week, leaders at the center teach would-be adherents the basics of the Hallelujah Diet, a vegan eating plan that centers on the consumption of raw foods and Christianity."
Jan. 23, 2007 — Every parent has dealt with a child having a tantrum and causing embarrassment at the worst times — in a grocery store, in a restaurant, and at weddings.
For a Massachusetts mom and dad, however, their toddler's tantrum cost them their flight home.
On Jan. 14, 3-year-old Elly Kulesza and her parents, Julie and Gerald, were kicked off an AirTran Airways flight from Florida to their Worcester, Mass., home because Elly would not stop crying.
Elly, who had been a model passenger on the flight to Florida four days earlier, began to cry uncontrollably once she got on the plane, throwing a temper tantrum on the floor.
AirTran employees demanded that the Kuleszas calm down their child. When Elly didn't stop crying, the crew banned the Kuleszas from flying for 24 hours. Later, AirTran offered an apology to the family along with a refund on their tickets.
"As we have an obligation to the 112 other passengers onboard the flight to operate the flight on time," AirTran said in a statement, "we had to make an operational decision to ask the Kulesza party to deplane so the flight could depart."
I wouldn't ever fly them again.
- Choose a pot that is large enough to hold the water you wish to boil.
- Fill pot with water and place on stove.
- Turn the stove on.
- Do no watch- watched pots never boil.
This last post is for people who are still having trouble making hard boiled eggs.
The last week has been a little rough. In the past I would have picked up grandpa and had lunch.
He would ask about the family and laugh at stories about the kids. Sooner or later we'd talk about the challenge of supporting a family and this and that.
I miss those moments. Our relationship had matured. We were friends who could relate to each other.
When he died I lost a confidant. It is really hard not being able to see him.
So I drove out to Eden and here we are together. I am still telling him stories and I imagine that he is still laughing even though I can't really hear his voice.
It makes me feel better to be here close to him. Sometimes I get upset with life because I feel like I have been robbed of people I love.
But then again I think about what I had and what I have.
Surely things could be worse.
That is all I have to say right now.
One of the brochures had that tired old line about turning boys into men. It is a phrase that I find tedious, if not downright irksome. It is overused, overplayed and turned into a cheap cliche. More than that I don't see a need for it to be included for a camp for six year olds.
It could be because I find that many of the people who use that line are not people that I consider to be the definition of masculinity. Or maybe it is just because it reminds me of an experience I had during a school camping trip.
The year was 1982 and I was one of about 100 students who were attending a two day overnight at Leo Carrillo State Park. For the most part I have good memories of that trip. There were some great hikes, a couple of cool campfires and a spin the bottle game that was out of control. We were young teenagers on hormonal overdrive. I can still tell you the names of some of the girls that I kissed and how it made me feel.
I could also tell you about the jackass teacher's aide who tried to tell me and some of the other guys what we had to do to be men, especially when it came to women. The things that he said made me very uncomfortable. Now I am not going to lie and say that the reason they made me uncomfortable was solely because he objectified women. It bothered me, but at the same time I didn't necessarily speak up either.
The source of my discomfort came from the way he spoke about women and the feeling that he was lying about his experiences. He was a braggart who reveled in telling these stories about all of the girls that he claimed had been with him. Even though I was pretty naive, I could feel that he wasn't being honest.
And now looking back in time it is so obvious to me that was lying. Certainly he is not the only man to lie about his conquests in the bedroom. It is a stupid trait that some men have. I suppose that some of it comes from insecurity. Maybe it is an inability to allow their illusions of grandeur to be deflated. Self indulgent egos sometimes require stroking. To be fair I should add that I have known women like this as well.
I once had a girlfriend who claimed that she was the one who broke up with me, even though there was a note proving otherwise.
But moving back to the theme of this post, I am interested in making my son into a man. It is my responsibility to do so. But I have very specific ideas of what kind of man I want him to be. He doesn't have to be the best athlete or the smartest, though I wouldn't mind. He doesn't have to be the strongest or the fastest, though I wouldn't mind that either.
What he has to be is someone who has character and integrity. Someone who g-d willing is not driven solely by ego. I want him to learn responsibility, to be accountable for his actions. A person of good character.
If he does these things I can be certain that everything else will fall into place.
On a side note I offer this comment to my fellow parents. Do you ever stare at your children and try to envision what they'll look like as adults?
I do. Not too often, but every now and then I try to picture grown ups walking around the house. Sometimes I think about what it will be like to be called Grandpa Jack.
Enough on that for now.
But I will demonstrate that I have spent more than a little time posting about this topic. Maybe too much time.
I know, another old post. I was going to write about the World's Strongest Man Contest and my training for it, but I am just too tired.
I have written about my love affair with Israel on many occasions. There are times when reading Eicha feels overwhelming. There are times when my not being there has been among the great heartbreaks of my life.
"1 By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, yea, we wept, when we remembered Zion.
2 Upon the willows in the midst thereof we hanged up our harps.
3 For there they that led us captive asked of us words of song, and our tormentors asked of us mirth: 'Sing us one of the songs of Zion.'
4 How shall we sing HaShem'S song in a foreign land?
5 If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning.
6 Let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, if I remember thee not; if I set not Jerusalem above my chiefest joy." Psalm 137
This is a topic that has been covered a number of times. The most recent that I am aware of was over at MCAryeh's place. He did a very fine job of listing many concerns that I share, but since this is my blog I should spend a few minutes outlining some more of my thoughts.
It is a little more than 20 years since this love affair began. A little more than 20 years since I returned from one of most powerful experiences of my life with lifetime of memories and a keychain of asimonim.
In truth I think that part of why this is so hard to write about is because to a certain extent I am ashamed that I let life and circumstance prevent me from following my heart to learn if Israel was home or just a place that will always occupy a fond place in my heart.
You see, when I visited Trumpeldor's kever in Tel Hai and read Ein davar, tov lamut be'ad arzenu ("Never mind; it is good to die for our country") I really bought into it.
I was 16 and so very free. It was June when we arrived and August when we left Ben-Gurion. When I left I was ready to return to the states but only because I thought that I would be back for college. It was a dream that never became a reality, just the fantasy of a kid.
I came close. I was accepted into a program that would have sent me back my freshman year but it wasn't something that my family could afford. I was ready to try again my junior year but love of a different sort got in the way and I foolishly passed it up.
In the years that have passed I have been back twice. Each trip involved a healthy chunk of time and each time I came back to the states with a heavy heart. But there was the promise of the future and as an adult it seemed to be more real than it had before.
You know, it is funny as I sit here typing I know that I have this dreamy look on my face and a parade of images in my mind. And I imagine that out there some of you are wondering if there is this much affection what is holding things up for me, why wouldn't I try and explore this further.
In my case I think that it is a series of things, family, fear of the unknown, the challenge of convincing a spouse to try to make the move, what would I do for a living, questions about my children etc. So let me try and address some of them in more detail.
My children are among my biggest concerns and I say some of this with great guilt. But if we were to make aliyah I would not be the one facing time in the IDF. I am not the one who would potentially be placed in harms way and there is part of me that says that my job is to keep them safe to the best of my ability.
If we don't make aliyah it is less likely that they will ever serve, not impossible but less probable. And I feel guilty for saying this, for saying that it is better than some other parent face this than I. It would be different if it was me, it would be different because it is my choice.
From a family standpoint it is not all that different than many others. In Los Angeles my children are surrounded by all of their grandparents and a large percentage of aunts, uncles and cousins. We have family throughout Israel and could make it possible for more to come, but there are older relatives such as my own grandparents for whom it would be an impossibility.
What would I do? How would I provide for my family? I am one of those people who really needs to be employed in a position that I enjoy. I really do not do well working in a situation that I hate. I am not suggesting that others do, but some do better with it than I do.
Perhaps I am succumbing to the path of least resistance, but maybe not. My gut is that the day will come when I will make the move. I am not so sure exactly when that is, but truly my heart tells me that the time will come when I will look out the window of my home and it won't be in Los Angeles.
Life is one hell of a crazy journey.
As is my wont I am going through the archives and using some old material again. (Originally Posted Here)I have been blogging for a little more than 18 months now. In that time I have generated a little more than 3000 posts. Yes, that is right, more than 3,000 posts. Some of those posts have been pulled down, so the number of posts that is actually live is likely to be different, but you get the general idea.
I am prolific. I have a lot of interests and a lot to say and I do stop every now and then to consider whether what I have to say is meaningful. When I consider why I got into blogging and the reasons why I come back to the same place in which I do see meaning. I blog because this gives me a running diary of my life, a place to vent and the opportunity to engage and interact with interesting people.
I try to visit as many blogs as I can, but time is fleeting and it can be a challenge. Nevertheless I make an effort. I also make an effort to comment. I am not much of a lurker. I am "lurking challenged." Some of that is because I feel a bit of an obligation to comment and not be as voyeuristic as I could be by sitting in the background watching and waiting. You took the time the write so I'll take the time to remark is the unofficial motto.
Posts that have No Comments
Early on in my blogging experience I didn't bother to visit any other blogs and I didn't have any sort of stat counter so many of those early posts are devoid of any sort of comments. There is also a chunk of time in which I used Haloscan. When I removed it I lost all of the comments that had accumulated there.
Why do I mention this? Because now when I go back to my earlier work I notice a number of things. My first thought is almost always how bad those posts were. They were just awful but as I mentioned many times I tend to dislike most of my work. The second thing I notice is whether there are any comments or not.
Posts that have no comments look like orphans to me. Sad and lonely collections of words that have received no love. They stand there in the shadows with their heads hung low and a glum expression on their collective typefaces.
As Forest Gump would say, "that is all I have to say on that for now."
Most people probably haven't spent any time considering the various factors involved in running a proper execution, but it makes sense that someone has. Not your every day line of work or thought, but someone has to do it.
**Just to be clear my comment is in reference to the link over at Soccer Dad's place.
Take Your Aspirinand
Here’s the secret they don’t tell you about space travel: It hurts. Spacesickness is common, particularly for first-timers and anybody who launches into a bunch of fancy spins or soaring across the station before they’ve had time to get acclimatized. And trust us, hurling in zero-G is no fun. Worse, the effects of weightlessness can really do a number on your body. One symptom is lower back pain, caused by your spine stretching as the fluid within it floats. You get taller, but you also get achier. Headaches are another major issue. Without gravity, it’s harder for your heart to do its job. Blood pressure drops and your blood doesn’t reach your feet as reliably. Instead, it flows to your head, turning your face puffy and red and giving you a headache, just as if you’d been hanging upside down on the monkeybars.
Don’t Ask, Don’t TellI am still interested. I think that it would be so very cool to go into space. It is one of my all time dreams to do so.
That’s the official NASA stance on whether anyone’s ever had sex in space. We may never know for certain whether astronauts and/or their international peers are hooking it up up there, but we do know that, if they were, it would come with some less-than-sexy challenges. For one thing, there’s no natural convection in zero gravity, so any heat you work up stays with you. At the same time, however, you also tend to sweat more in zero G, making outer space sex both hotter and wetter than that on Earth—and not in a good way. Another problem is that, in zero G, you naturally push away from anything you touch. That means anybody wanting to have sex in space would probably need to be strapped down and strapped together. Oh, and that drop in blood pressure we already mentioned? That would have dire effects on male “egos” galaxy wide.
More often than not I stay. It is a combination of this naive hope that it will get better and my irritation with having paid. In LA a bargain matinee will run somewhere between eight and ten bucks a person. Throw in snacks, parking and dinner and you could easily drop sixty or seventy bucks and you haven't done all that much.
Just to get things rolling here are a couple of movies that I didn't like:
Like Water For Chocolate
As Good As it Gets
How about you?
how to make hard boiled eggs
operator by jim croce meaning
tai-kwon-leap/boot to the head
random celebrities who have patents
as i wake its kaleidoscopic mind meaning
life without religion
example for children
stand upright and be strong favorite song
Hussein execution video
fresh eggs peeled versus old eggs
how long can hard boiled eggs stay out
hard boil eggs
origin of the silver surfer
the meaning of fernando by abba
the meaning of movies
bathroom man sign
do americans like soccer
make hard boiled eggs
king mountaintop npr
But how many of you are aware of the Smokey The Bear guidelines for proper use.
These guidelines are ruining my plan to create a drunk and disorderly Smokey. He is a bear for heavens sake, let him act like a bear. If I were Smokey I'd start out by grabbing picnic baskets.
1. Use the costume only to further public information, education, and aware- ness of the
prevention of wildfires.
2. NOT TO SPEAK during appearances. Conversations or explanations should be
carried out by the accompanying official (escort).
3. Never appear in less than full costume.
4. Remain anonymous at every appearance and in any publicity connected with an
appearance. This includes being photographed without the head.
5. Use only costumes that are clean, complete, and in good condition. 6. Keep costume
out-of-sight before and after use.
7. Appear dignified and friendly. Avoid clowning and horseplay.8. Always be accompanied by an appropriately uniformed escort in public appearances,
except where not practical, such as on a parade float where space is limited.
9. Refrain from using alcohol or drugs prior to and during the Smokey Bear appearance.
This condition applies to officials as well.
1. The person wearing the costume must exhibit appropriate animation to be effective.
Express sincerity and interest in the appearance by moving paws, head, and legs.
2. There shall be at least one uniformed escort to accompany the Bear. The escort shall
guide the Bear at the elbow.
3. After donning the costume, the escort shall inspect the suit. Check for the following:
Is the drawstring tucked in?
Is the zipper out of sight?
Are the buttons fastened?
Is the belt firmly fastened to the pants?
Are the pant cuffs neat?
Is the hat crown up?
Is the head straight on the shoulders?
Is the fur brushed generously?
4. A private dressing room is necessary for putting on and taking off the costume.
5. The costumed bear should not force itself on anyone. Do not walk rapidly toward
6. A round-point shovel is part of the Smokey Bear image. It shall be used for
appearances, when appropriate.
7. The costume becomes hot to the wearer after a very short period. Success has been
noted with the use of compartmentalized vests and "Blue Ice", and the addition of a
battery-operated fan in the hat. Several cooling options are available from the costume
manufacturers. Limit appearances to 15-20 minute segments to minimize personal
8. After each appearance, check the costume for needed repairs or cleaning. Note this on
the outside of the storage box for immediate follow-up by the owner/manager of the
I'd growl at people and roar at dogs. I don't even want to tell you what I'd be like at a barbecue.
You want to know the thing that makes me the saddest about this. Well, I was truly interested in seeing Smokey take on Woodsy Owl in an Ultimate Fighting Championship. Woodsy is such a little wimp. I'd like to see Smokey kick his ass up and down that ring, make a man/owl of him.
BTW, as long as we are speaking of Woodsy Boing Boing tipped me off to something. Did you know that there are official guidelines for how to destroy Woodsy.
1. Incinerate the complete costume with the oversight of an official USDA Forest Service law enforcement officer*.
2. The entire Woodsy Owl costume including each of the separate pieces is to be destroyed beyond recognition.
* If you do not have access to an official USDA Forest Service law enforcement representative, arrangements will be made for dealing with your costume by contacting the USDA-FS Washington Office at:
C/o National Symbols Program
P. O. Box 96090
Washington, D. C. 20090-6090
In other words if you are incapable of building a big bonfire or haven't access to an industrial size furnace these people can help you.
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