Just Isn't The Same

I had disconnected from the 'net, then decided I'd go get my Bings Rewards points and opened up my Edge Browser (a few more points by using it) and got this error message.

It's good to know they think the web isn't the same without me, but to be truthful, I'm not the same w/out the web.  I've tried all kinds of vices in my life and never had any real problems with any of them (except smoking) and could lay them down, quit without much problem, but I really do miss the Internet when I am offline. 

I *might* have a problem, but AFAIC, it's not all that bad.  Sure, I waste a LOT of time online, but it's not ALL wasted;  I can honestly say I learn something new each and every day.

Besides that, all my friends live in my computer!

I know I'm not "connected".  Otherwise I'd have friends named Big Pussy, Sal and Tony and a good no-show job for the local waste management concern.

Hard Core

Originally published 8/7/08.  I was telling a friend about my oil field experiences and linked him to this post and decided it was worth a "bump".

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I took these photos a few months ago to post in a political forum I used to frequent; I wanted to (try to) prove to a guy that hydrocarbons were formed by deposits of organic material. He was arguing that, since some Georgia textbook had said "oil came from dinosaurs" that that was what was taught in our schools and it was wrong. (never mind that the textbook was printed in the 50's, and was a grade school primer. That was about his intellectual level, come to think of it)

He was insisting that oil is formed in the earth's core (abiogenic petroleum origin) and that we were nowhere nearly running out of it and that oil companies kept this "fact" a secret . (and this coming from a guy who said every Ron Paul supporter was a conspiracy nut)

This is a core sample from one of my dad's wells; it came from approx. 4800 feet and is from the Brown Dolomite formation.



The large white deposit in the above photo is chert (sometimes called "flint"); drilling through the dolomite formation is tricky enough*, but these hard layers of chert could tear up a drill bit if not careful.

*Dolomite is very porous, and that's why -- in that particular area -- it is the oil-bearing strata. In other places, where it was necessary to drill deeper to find oil or gas, drilling through this particular formation took special precautions; if the drilling fluid wasn't viscous (thick) enough, or didn't have enough "filler", the formation could swell from the fresh water and "stick your bit" and pipe. It is also a "lost circulation" zone, sometimes sucking in fluid faster than could be pumped down the hole.

This next photo shows just how porous the rock is.



It's so porous, I used to like to pour liquid incense onto the core; it would soak it up and slowly release the fragrance over several weeks time.

This next shot shows some tiny fossils embedded into it. (Some might argue that they're rock, but I took this to my college geology professor and he verified it. He wanted me to give it to him, but he had already stolen a meteorite from me...long story)



No, it wasn't "just" dinosaurs that made oil; my dad used to say it was dinosaur "poop" more than the prehistoric animal remains, but that was...just like that Georgia textbook...a simplification. The organic material that later became oil came from seas that used to cover this area millions of years ago. It wasn't just one time, but several, over millions of years and millions of tons of organics. The tremendous amount of organic material, under tremendous heat and pressure, formed the hydrocarbons.



That's not as nice an example as is this core sample from Norway, but I think it's still interesting.

My dad and I used to polish rocks, and he made an ashtray out of a slab of core sample. I don't know what happened to it, but it had a beautiful shell in it.

That particular field is nearly played out, but the last time I was out there, they were drilling some injection wells and seemed to be having some success with that method. (tertiary recovery)

Suck It, Photobucket

I was doing as I normally do when I check email, replying to a few in my inbox, checking the recipe newsletters, reading some sales circulars from Amazon and a local grocery store, then went into the Spam folder to clear it out.

I always scan the subject titles and the addresses just in case something important has been accidentally flagged as junk when I saw one from Photobucket.  At first I thought it was Spam, but it seemed to be from the website, so I opened it to find this:

WE NOTICED THAT YOU HAVE BEEN USING
PHOTOBUCKET FOR 3RD PARTY HOSTING*

*What is 3rd Party Hosting?

Photobucket defines 3rd party hosting as the action of embedding an image or photo onto another website. For example, using the tag to embed or display a JPEG image from your Photobucket account on another website such as a forum, Etsy, eBay auction listings, a blog, etc. is definitively 3rd party hosting.

And some other crap, mainly that they wanted to charge me some insane amount to provide hosting for my graphics.  Now, I use the Blogger albums they provide for any jpegs, but they don't support animations and I use some in posts in here, as well as the day-date calendar and border.  I also use the service for forums that don't supply image hosting for non-paying users like me (read: cheap bastards like me)

I didn't get a notice until this one that they were changing their TOU (terms of use).  Since they had always supplied the code, the HTML to embed images, I always thought it was OK, but apparently it's not now.  My "library" with Photobucket is only 1% full and they used to show a bandwidth meter and it was always set at around 10% or less, so I never worried.  I did keep an eye on it after having a few websites directly link to images and got a warning from Photobucket that I was over the limit, so I made it private and that was the end of the thieving. 

There are lots of people complaining about it online and I don't blame 'em.  Some people relied upon it for their image hosting, esp. people uploading them to Amazon for reviews and people trying to sell things on eBay. Now their entire websites and/or posts are affected and have this placeholder where their photos used to be:

So, if you see that in any older post or on the animations I use for things, then that's the reason. I've already signed up for a new free image hosting service and hope they'll not go the same route as Photobucket...which I predict is going to go out of business soon, because I think - as do many others - that they're in financial trouble and this is one last grab for some quick cash.

Anyway, I'll be doing the changeover soon, hope it works.  If not, I suppose I can live w/out any flashing signs or animated GIFs.  I'm sure the readership of this pathetic excuse for a blog won't suffer any...how could it?  We're only something like the 12,784,987th ranked blog in the world, after all.

Don't Get Yourself in a Pickle!

A "bump" from Nov. '08.  No one commented, so perhaps no one or not many saw it. Unlike many of my stories, this is a true one.

Besides, I needed a post for today and just couldn't get enthused enough to work one up.

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“There are three kinds of men. The one that learns by reading. The few who learn by observation. The rest of them have to pee on the electric fence for themselves.”
- Will Rogers

---

It was a Senior Work Day, and we boys were working on a Saturday, making some money for our class trip after graduation. We castrated pigs that morning, then after lunch we were instructed to move some irrigation pipe. Someone noticed an electric fence on a nearby pasture and the question was raised:

"Say, you ever pee on an electric fence?" Out of the six of us, four admitted they had and another boy and I were the only ones to admit to have not having had the experience.

"Do it!" the four urged me and the other guy. I shook my head, having been around electric fences before and not liking how the shock went through me where I had made contact with the fence after not seeing it and then accidentally walking into it. The shock was bad enough on my thighs, the thought of having "it" shocked wasn't appealing to me, not at all.

The taunts went on, but I didn't care because those words didn't hurt nearly as much as electricity. Maybe I was the only one who had been awake in eighth grade science when we learned about electricity and in particular how salt water can be a circuit and conduct current. For one experiment, we used a pickle to complete a circuit; it glowed inside and crackled like an old pool hall beer sign.



Nope, no need for me to electrify MY little dill.

The other guy was challenged by the sneers from the rest and with a show of bravado, marched over to the fence, unzipped and after a few moments of potty blush, began to urinate on the charged wire.

While others claimed to have seen a spark, I must have been in the wrong position, but I did see the guy's knees buckle, then straighten up to launch him into the air and land backwards into a muddy ditch.

It took him a while to recover, then he became angry at our laughter and turned his rage upon me.

"Your turn!" he commanded.

With tears in my eyes from laughing so hard, I declined again. "MY momma didn't raise no fool." I told him, which made him even angrier.

"You're the only one who hasn't done it!" he said. "We'll make you!" he went on, looking around at the other boys for allies.

One by one, the others shook their heads, saying they really HADN'T ever peed on a fence, just wanted to see if someone would do it.

This set the guy off and in a profanity-laden tirade, accused them of being liars.

"Better that than a dumbass." was the reply.

Transurphobia

Transurphobia - the fear of haircuts.

Understandable.

My pop used to cut my hair when I was a kid, an easy way to save a buck.  My folks bought a pair of clippers, not the electric kind, but manually operated and they were horrible, pulling out hair and I guess I carried on so much they bought electric clippers.  They were better, but it was still the same type of haircut, a close burr, a "buzz cut".   Oh well, it was better than a "Moe bowl-type" cut.

When I got older and a little less timid, I challenged my pop to let ME buzz HIS head.  He started taking me to the barber then, think it was something like $1.25 for a haircut.  I didn't like the hometown barber and neither did my dad...who called him "the Montana sheep shearer".  I liked the guy, but agreed with my father and always thought a sheep shearer might very well have been more gentle than him.  (The space between my ears and scalp was always nicked and bleeding after every hair cut.  That wouldn't have been so bad, but I wore glasses and the ear pieces would keep the minor wounds raw and irritated. )

When I was old enough to make my own money with summer jobs, I started paying for my own haircuts, but they were two bucks by then, the same as the hourly minimum wage.  A well-to-do classmate always had great looking haircuts and he talked me into going to his barber...who charged the then-outrageous price of $7.50!   That could have filled up my car, taken a date to the movies and maybe even enough left over to buy her some popcorn!  The last haircut I got was $12.50, not counting the tip...and considerably more than the hourly minimum wage at the time.

So, since my hairline was receding with every passing year, I bought my own set of clippers and started buzzing my own head.   I tried shaving it, but that was too much of a hassle, just better to take the clippers to what few hairs I have left.  The best thing is that just a couple of self-haircuts can pay for the clippers. 

What I'd like to know is why the hair on my head is disappearing and multiplying in my nose and ears?

A Very Bing Birthday

Among family, friends and my online pals. I've had a pretty good birthday so far. Several of my email newsletters have sent me special emails, also wishing me a happy birthday. (and I also got an email in my spam folder from a "young woman" who wished me a happy birthday and would give me a "special present" if I clicked on the enclosed link. I was tempted, but...)

Bing also sent me birthday wishes earlier today on their home page; the images were animated, but I just took screen shots.

Make a wish?  Sure, so I clicked the button and got this:

I don't know how magical Bing is, but if my birthday wish comes true, I will be a lottery winner sometime this week.  I hope it's the Powerball because it's MUCH larger than the Mega Millions or the Texas Lotto jackpots.

What Domesticated Animal Are You?

Sometimes these quizzes are so spot-on they're scary.  I'm not convinced of the "...you tend to help others heal", but I like to think the rest is accurate.

You Are a Cat

You are a highly independent person. You enjoy exploring the world on your own, and you really treasure your alone time. You have a deep connection with yourself, and you are most relaxed when you fly solo. You enjoy family and friends, but you are a loner at heart. You are a true adventurer, and you have a ton of courage. You are very curious about the world, and you love to explore the unknown as much as you can. You are a very intuitive creature, and you tend to help others heal. You have a good sense of what someone needs, even if there are many mysteries involved.

What Domesticated Animal Are You?

Are You Smarter Than You Think?

Here are the criteria, according to this:

15 Signs You Might Be Smarter Than You Think

I'll go down the list and comment after each one.

#15. You’re thin.

Well, one strike against me already.  I'm certainly not fat, but not exactly thin, either.

#14. You drink alcohol regularly.

Nope.  I have alcohol in my house and during the hottest parts of summers, I sometimes buy a six pack or even 12, but most go to waste.  "Regularly"?  No.

#13. You’re a worrywart.

I wouldn't say that applies to me, either.  I only start worrying when things start looking bad.  Yep, I procrastinate even in my worrying.

#12. You’re messy.

Ding Ding Ding!  I finally matched up with one.  I think "messy" would be a little too kind to describe me;  I'm a slob.

#11. Being alone is just fine with you.

Oh yeah, probably because of #12.  Seriously, my mom used to tell me I preferred my own company and she was right.  I could be a hermit, as long as the cave was close to a grocery store and had high speed Internet.  

#10. You own a cat.

Never considered myself "owning" a cat, but rather that I was their servant.  I feed some outside kitties, so I'm gonna count this one as a "Yes".

#9. You’re tall, or left-handed.

Just what defines "tall"?  I'm not short.  I used to be just nearly 6 feet tall, but as I've grown older, I'm getting shorter, a natural thing from what I've read.  Maybe that means as you grow older and shorter, you also get dumber?

I'm not left-handed, either.  I'm sort of glad about that, after seeing the difficulties some of my left-handed friends encounter in a right-handed world.

#8. People think you’re funny.

I think they do, at least most people who know me do.  I like to make people laugh. I used to make my ex-wife laugh when I undressed in front of her. 

#7. Sex could wait until after high school.

Good grief, no.  I couldn't wait and dreamed about it from the first time I ever considered girls as sexual beings.  I seriously was afraid I'd die a virgin.   

#6. Suburbia is not for you.

Well, back on the right track with that one.  I would prefer living alone out in the country, isolated from city sounds and nearby neighbors.

#5. You’re the oldest child.

Nope, the youngest.

#4. You were breastfed.

I don't really know for sure.  It wasn't something I ever queried my mom about, but I doubt it.  

 

#3. Reading came easily.

Yes, I knew how to read before I started going to school, thanks to two older sisters who liked to play teacher.  I don't remember learning how to read, just that I knew how long before my peers did.

#2. People call you a night owl.

10-4 on that one.  I have worked a lot of nights in my life and it never bothered me.  I enjoy the quiet of the night.

#1. You’ve used recreational drugs.

Well, yeah, I have.  I hate to admit to it, and I often regret spending the money on them, but then again, I am glad I did them when I was younger and got it out of my system. I never shot anything up, though and my experience with anything other than pot is very limited.  I didn't care for most of it, for one thing and didn't like how it changed the people who DID use them to excess.

So, not sure if that quiz proved anything.  I honestly don't think I'm smarter than I think I am.  I think I'm exactly as smart as I think I am...and not sure if that makes me smart for thinking that.

Encounter With Santa

I went to get some water yesterday evening, but the Culligan store had suffered some vandalism and the vending machine was boarded up. I drove out to the water kiosk in the mall parking lot to use that one, then after I was done, decided I'd get some gasoline at the station at the entrance to Walmart.

While I was pumping my gas, a van drove up next to me and Santa Claus got out! I told him "Hey, man! Why haven't you been to see me lately? It's been over 40 yrs.!"

He looked up from putting the gas nozzle in his tank and wryly said:

"Well, you must've been a BAD boy."

Hard to argue with that!

What Make of Car Are You?

You Are a Porsche

You make no apologies for who you are. You are ambitious, aggressive, and and a total Type A. You love to win in life, and you don't need to break the rules to do it. You are never happier than when you're competing. You are a very fun person, even though you don't have a lot of free time. When you play, you really go for it. You secretly love attention and love people being envious of you. You are proud of what hard work has netted you in life.

What Make of Car Are You?

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There's so much wrong with these results, I'm not sure where to begin. In the first place, I'm certainly not a "Type A" person.  I'm also neither ambitious (pretty much the opposite) but I guess I CAN be a little aggressive at times...but not with my driving.

I have LOADS of free time - I have no life.  I also do NOT love attention and if someone is envious of me, then I pity them.

I WOULD love to own a Porsche - a Boxter Spyder, to be exact.

I went back and changed some of my answers several times, and is usually the case there is one of the multiple-choice questions that determines the car you are.  I changed from testing a car on the Autobahn to on a rural road and it said I was a Volkswagon. I didn't read the description for that, but it probably fits me better than this one...although I'd much rather own a Porsche than a VW.

The Socks Personality Test

Your Socks Say You're Fascinating

You Are: - Quite outrageous - Very jolly - A little bit different - An awesome person

The Socks Personality Test

At least it it didn't mention my obsession with them.

I had to pick one, but since they didn't have any white socks, I went with the purple.

Long Time

Wow, just noticed how long it had been since my last post.  In my defense, I was offline for the better part of the last five days because my modem was fried by a nearby lightning strike.   I was relieved it was just the modem and not my computer and especially since my 'puter and several peripherals are on the same circuit.

Wussy AT&T modem, anyway.

Anyway...it's not as though I really do much with this pathetic excuse for a blog nor that I have loads of visitors to keep entertained.  It's always only been a "hobby", something to do to amuse myself.  It's really just an ersatz means of being creative, typing out some stupid words or embedding a video and pressing "Send" and having it post and then looking at it and saying to myself "Wow, I created something."

I'm sure it's something a trained ape could do.

I don't get all that many unique visitors and the last time I checked, this blog was ranked something like 12,456,738th in the world, so....

All that said, if anyone has been disappointed by my lack of posts, I promise I'll try to do better.  For those of you who have been disappointed by a lack of any creative content....well, keep checking in because I might accidentally post something worth reading.

Not that I ever have, but there's always hope, huh?

My Bing Birthday

My sister sent me a card and an Amazon gift card and some of my Facebook friends wished me a Happy Birthday...but only after my sis posted a birthday message. (I don't have my birthday listed) I've also received birthday wishes from various newsletters and a few coupons in the mail from companies such as American Spirit and Black & Mild.  I'm pretty sure tobacco companies aren't concerned about me having MORE birthdays, y'know?

I opened up Bing early this a.m. to finish up this month's searches to get points for my regular $5 Amazon Gift Card, a great prize for reading and searching online, something I'd do for free anyway, and I saw this, pretty cool:

I clicked the "Make a Wish" link and got this:

I hope my wish comes true because I wished I'd win the lottery. I DID win $8 on last night's Powerball drawing, but I'm hopin' for a little more.

A few tens of millions more, actually.

What's Sexy About Your Name?

You Are Passionate Sexy

You are sexy because you are torrid. You are a fiery lover. You have an extremely high sex drive. And you don't do much to control it. You crave variety and excitement. If someone interests you, you'll pursue them... full force. Your passion is all consuming. There's nothing that can quell your sexual energy. Sexual freedom is very important to you. You don't like following rules. You feel that anything between consenting adults should be fair game.

What's Sexy About Your Name?

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Sometimes these quizzes are spot-on and others...well, not so much. I'm not sure about this one.  I'd say some of it is true - and I'll leave you to speculate on just what that is - and some of it would be nothing more than wishful thinking if I said it about myself.

There's one thing, however, that I disagree with and that's the "There's nothing that can quell your sexual energy.".  Oh, I can think of several things, but a "a bucket of cold water" is my first thought. 

How about "You don't like following rules."? Well, there's some rules, the laws of physics...such as standing up in a hammock, y'know what I mean?

Plus, "You are a fiery lover."  What's that mean?  Smoking during AND after?

All in a Day

Yep, it's that time of year again to start out the old mnemonic "Spring forward, Fall back".  I usually hear nothing but complaints about losing an hour of sleep, but good grief, it happens on a Saturday night and the next day is Sunday.  The only people who it seems like it would really inconvenience are the church goers...and I'd like to know what percentage of them sleep through church anyway.    I'd think people who worked the graveyard shift would be happy, having to work only 7 hours. 

When I worked on rigs, we usually got paid for the nine hours we were out there during this time change and generally when the fall change of advancing the clock ahead an hour, we got paid for eight, despite having only worked seven hours, but I did have a few companies who refused to do that, saying we got the extra hour in the spring, so it was only fair.  The trouble with that was I sometimes hadn't been working for the company then and when that was the case - when I had to be out there for nine hours and only got paid for eight - I'd make a point- if I could- to do absolutely nothing for an hour.  If I couldn't, then I'd do it some other night .  Don't get me wrong, I was a good hand and conscientious about my job, but it was the principal of the thing.

Enough about my roughnecking days (or nights), here's some day trivia:

The total time between sunrise and sunset is the "day length".  This can vary with latitude.

Day length at the equator is about 12 hours every day.

Day length at the poles ranges between 24 and 0 hours every six months.

Why aren’t there exactly 12 hours of daylight and 12 hours of darkness on the spring and fall equinoxes?

On the equinoxes, the very center of the Sun sets just 12 hours after it rose. But the day begins when the upper edge of the Sun reaches the horizon (which happens a bit before the center rises), and it doesn’t end until the entire Sun has set. Not only that, but the Sun is actually visible when it is below the horizon, as Earth’s atmosphere refracts the Sun’s rays and bends them in an arc over the horizon.

Fwench Toast

Going through my Facebook pages feed, I noticed this on the Relish Magazine wall:

(click graphic for larger view)

Any mention of French toast always reminds me of a story told to me by a friend; he had met the friend of a woman I was dating at her house and because my date and I wanted some privacy, went home with her. (great friend!) The babysitter was there and the woman paid the young girl who was doing the sitting and after she was gone, went in to look in on her daughter asleep in her bedroom. After a few minutes, the woman came out and sat beside my friend who was waiting on the couch. One thing lead to another and...well, you get the drift, I hope.

My friend said he woke up the next morning to find the little girl standing by his side of the bed, silently staring at him, her hair mussed by sleep, a thumb stuck in her mouth and a grubby little blanket held in her other arm. They looked at each other for a while, then my friend asked: "What do you want?"

The little girl took her thumb out of her mouth and answered:

"Fwench toast."

Good News & Bad News

The bad news?  No more football for six months. (not counting the draft...and that really doesn't count)

The good news?  My email inbox will quit getting deluged with Pizza Hut adverts.

The day after the Super Bowl has always been the saddest day of the year for me.  Now, as I grow older, I care less and less about all sports, but I still enjoy football...although one has to be a bit of a masochist to remain a Cowboys fan. -sigh-  I care nothing about basketball and even less (if possible) about hockey and the only reason I like seeing baseball in the news is that it means spring is here. 

I get one, sometimes two, Pizza Hut mailings every week.  I don't eat a lot of pizza, but I signed up so I can order online and take advantage of the deals offered only to members.  This week, though, I was getting two, sometimes three separate promotional emails every day.  Enough already!  I think being a pizza delivery person would be one of the worst jobs, particularly on Super Bowl Sunday. 

Well, except for working for Roto-Rooter on the day after Thanksgiving.

I'm also glad that my recipe newsletters will focus on something else besides party dips and especially chicken wing recipes.  I never made any of them, but I read so many I started sprouting pinfeathers.  Every time I've ever seen wings on the buffet, the "drumettes" were gone by the time I got to them.  I finally figured out the best way to eat the "arm" part of the wing;  pinch off the end with the bit of cartilage and pull the two tiny bones out and then you can eat the entire thing!

Not in the Mood

To anyone who cares, I just haven't felt like posting much.   Actually, I haven't felt too well at all.  (I'll be OK and am getting better) A couple of weeks ago my computer bit the dust and it took me several days to try to resuscitate it (and finally giving up), then a day or two after buying a new one to get IT all sorted out.  (still a work in progress)

I've also been a little burned out on not only doing things in my blog, but participating much at all in my other online activities - friend's blogs plus message boards and forums I frequent.  I've mostly been just reading and catching up on the TV shows I like to watch.   I've got a lot more time than money, but lately I've been having problems finding enough time to do the things I used to do on the Internet. 

So, that's basically it, the reason I've not been around much.  I'm not sure many people have noticed, but I learned a long time ago to not validate myself by some silly blog or website I've created.  I just do this for grins, anyway. 

Love to all my friends and family and this blog's readers, the frequent visitors and those who stumbled in here and like something I've written or posted....and as always, to hell with the rest.

Happy Garazon Day!

(A "bump" from 2009)

Well, it's actually Groundhog Day, but for the last 7-8 yrs. I always think of my online pal Garazon because he once said it was one of his favorite "holidays".

I've never really given the date much significance; around these parts there almost always are six more weeks of bad weather after the start of February...and we don't have groundhogs, either.

If you want to know more about the holiday, visit the official website of the Punxsutawney Groundhog Club.

One of my favorite movies is Groundhog Day, the hilariously funny 1993 release starring Bill Murray. Here's the trailer:


If you've never seen it, it's certainly worth the price of a DVD/VHS rental. Shoot, it's probably in the .49 cent section!

Back to Garazon Day....

For several years, our buddy "G" was alone

But now he's got some company!

Just like St. Patrick's Day when everyone is Irish, today everyone is a groundhog!

Here's me

Just like me...always looking the wrong way!

ultracrepidarian

ultracrepidarian [uhl-truh-krep-i-dair-ee-uh n]

adjective
1. noting or pertaining to a person who criticizes, judges, or gives advice outside the area of his or her expertise

noun
2. an ultracrepidarian person.

---

I saw this word in my reader feed earlier and thought it might be a good one to add to my vocabulary and especially to use in online arguments. What I really like about these esoteric words is that it shuts the other person up until they can go find out what it means.

Not but a few minutes after I read it, I went to a lottery forum I participate in and caught up on a thread I had been following about the recent Tennessee Powerball winners who gave a press conference even before they claimed their share of the jackpot. The arguments were getting heated when one guy said no one had the right to criticize them since he was sure no one giving their opinions had ever won. That led to a spate of replies with one person saying "one doesn't have to be a doctor to know they have a belly ache."

Thinking about the lottery reminded me I needed to go get a ticket for tonight's Texas Lotto.  I stopped at the dollar store on the way home and started to go down an aisle but two older men were talking and blocking my way.  I turned around and went down the next aisle and while looking for what I wanted to buy, heard one complaining he hadn't been sleeping well and the other said "The sandman hasn't been visiting you, huh?" and at that exact point the store radio speaker just above their heads started with the distinctive opening guitar rift of "Enter Sandman" by Metallica!

I love these coincidences that seem to happen to me a lot;  I'll be listening to online radio and reading something in another tab and the radio hosts will say a word I'm reading at the same time or reference a news story I'm scanning.  Freaky!  ("coincidence" is even a post label in this blog)

And speaking of freaky:  after those earlier two coincidences, I got on Facebook to see what's been happening since I last visited and noticed a FB friend had posted a video of the Top Ten Eagles songs.  #1 was "Hotel California" and I had to make a comment about it being one of the most overplayed songs ever...and after I hit "Enter" on the post, another friend's post showed up right below that one - check it out:

(click image for larger view)