Note: These could very well be Japanese characters, but I couldn't get the alliterative title if they were. Just play along, 'kay?
I recently ran across these Chinese character graphics. It was neat to see my name in Chinese.
If I ever make it big in China, I'll be able to sign autographs. I'll need to brush up on my calligraphy, though.
Of course, my name doesn't have any lucky symbols in it.
There was even a female name, although the Michelle I dated should've had the character for "devil" in it. (maybe it does, I just don't know)
Found several other men's names:
It's funny--to me--that Carl and Bill look very similar, having the exact same second character. (which looks like a milk can, doesn't it?)
I'm not for sure if this next is for the name or religion.
I tend to think it means the religion, because I then found these:
It Luke like they left one out.
June 13, 2008
Curious Chinese Clipart
For Sale/Not Cheap
I meant to put this into this blog last fall when I found it on Ebay.
Still true, though.
June 12, 2008
Clipart Counting Contest
How many balls does the lady have in her right hand?
(if the answer is either two or three that might account for the happy look on his face)
Let's assume there's none in the left.
Not Even an Ivory Soap Texan
I'm not sure a Texan wrote this quiz; the a/c for 12 months of the year doesn't apply here in the Panhandle. We only have three seasons here: Summer, Winter and Thaw.
You Are 96% Texas |
 Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit. This ain't your first rodeo! |
My Ex-Wife's Feet
Were pretty big; 9 1/2 EEE. She was a big girl, though.
Sorry, foot fetishers - no pics.
Anything to drive up the traffic.
The topic of my next empty post: Fat Church Girl Dwarfs in Pantyhose.
That'll bring 'em in for sure.
Greek Word, Texas Truth
From the Word of the Day feed in the right-hand column:
hyperbole \hy-PUHR-buh-lee\, noun:
Extravagant exaggeration.
Those were the days when I still liked hyperbole, before an excess of real drama killed my taste for the manufactured kind.
-- Katherine Russell Rich, The Red Devil
Hyperbole comes from Greek hyperbole, "excess," from hyperballein, "to exceed," from hyper, "beyond" + ballein, "to throw."
Yup, here in Texas we sure like to throw "it" around to excess.
Driving in India
If this had been in nearly anywhere in America, there would have been at least two dozen accidents.
If this had been in Texas, there would have been at least two dozen shootings.
Good News, Bad News
The good news: This blog has had visitors from quite a few places here in the United States and others from the United Kingdom, Canada, Netherlands, Belgium, Ukraine, Cyprus, Indonesia, Australia, Ireland, Norway, Germany, Greece, Sweden, Bulgaria, Nigeria, Argentina, Italy, Singapore, Brazil, Slovakia, Spain and New Zealand.
A screenshot of my Feedjit map:
The bad news?
Most haven't been back.
(especially the foot fetishists)
June 11, 2008
Hey mister!
I wanted to eat a proper meal, but the only other downtown cafe was full to capacity and I didn't feel like waiting, so I walked on over to the Coney Island. (see Blueberries with Wings)
As I rounded the corner to the cafe, I was dismayed to see a line waiting to get in. I thought that perhaps, as is sometimes the case, people were waiting for booths and there might just be a place at the counter. The stools are old, well-worn and patched, but preferable to waiting for one of the more comfortable booths.
I was directly behind three women and a young child, a little girl. They looked to be four generations of the same family and as I got behind them, they were griping about having to wait. "Look at that!" one said. "There's one guy hoggin' an entire booth."
I hate to hear griping, especially when I'M in the mood to gripe, but that wasn't the end of it all. I had to listen to them bitch about one's ex-husband, and the oldest woman complain about men in general as she kept casting the evil eye at the poor slob who had the temerity to take up space that he should have ceded to them. All the while the little girl kept telling her mother "I DID see it, I DID!"
"What's she talking about?" asked one of the women to the girl's mother. "Oh, I don't know." the mother replied. "Something about a cat."
The little girl seized upon the opportunity "I saw it, G'ma, it was a cat on the wall!"
"You reckon it was a picture of a cat in a window?" asked the grandmother.
"Dunno." said the annoyed mother. "She's got quite an imagination; it really bothers her daddy when she comes to him with stories of monsters under the bed."
She's probably got a monster for a daddy, I thought irritably. I spied an open stool at the far end of the counter, but getting through this mass of womanhood was probably an impossible task. The women blathered on, oblivious to my "Excuse me, please." as I tried to get around, under, through them.
My stomach growled and I hoped it wouldn't scare the little girl, a real-life low-blood sugar monster standing right behind them, getting more P.O.'d with every moment.
Something was tugging at my shirt and I looked down at the little girl who had the cloth in her grubby little hand.
"Hey mister, you saw it, dintcha? The cat on the wall?"
My heart melted, my anger vanished. There was an angel's face attached to those sticky fingers. I smiled, and shook my head.
"Sorry, honey, I wasn't paying attention."
"Leave that man alone!" said the mother to her child, pulling her away from me. I felt stitches give way in my shirt, felt my own annoyance coming back. The old lady was now giving me the evil eye and I wondered if I shouldn't just push past them, go join the solitary guy in the booth since we both were now on the women's bad side. I stared back at the woman and could see in her eyes that she thought I was some sort of child molester because I was talking to the girl.
I figured I had better get away for a minute, "simmer down",wait on some folks to get done eating, so I stepped outside for some fresh air. As I turned and opened up the door, the little girl spoke to me again "Hey mister, see if that cat's still there!" The old lady pulled the child closer to her, away from me, the pervert.
I stepped out on the curb, and lit a cigarette. I looked up, and was surprised at what I saw:
I hurried back to my pickup and grabbed my camera (it's ALWAYS with me) to take the previous shot and the following ones.
At one time, there was a rather seedy hotel for transients, The Davis, next door to the Coney. When I was a young man, the rooms were two dollars a night, and I expect that the rates hadn't gone up a whole lot since then. You get what you pay for.
As you can see, the screen was torn and a cat was sunning itself on the window ledge.
I couldn't help but laugh to myself, and took my camera back to my truck. The cafe had cleared out some in the meantime, and I found a booth just behind the same women. I had no sooner sat down when I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder, it was the little girl.
"Didja see it, mister? Didja see the cat on the wall?"
"Sure did, hon. It was a calico kitty sunning itself in the window, you were right!"
With a smug look that only women can have when they're proven to be right, she turned around and plopped back down in the booth.
I ordered, got my meal and was eating when the women finished their food and were leaving. They had started down the aisle, little girl in tow, when she pulled away and came running back to me. She climbed up next to me on the booth, put her head on my chest and gave me a little squeeze with mustard stained fingers then looked squarely at me with a million watt smile which I took as a "thank you" for believing her.
Granny came back and yanked her away from me before I could do harm to her over-imaginative grandchild. I laughed as the little girl was dragged away, facing me and waving and yelling all the way out of the Coney.
"Bye-bye! Bye, mister!"
A Rather Queer Email
Just got this in my inbox, and forgive me for the title, but I wanted to draw attention to this:
Texas Coach speaks out
Jim Neugent is a coach in Childress , Texas .
Jim writes: My name is Jim Neugent. I wrote to ABC (on-line) concerning a program called 'THE PRACTICE.' In last nights episode, one of the lawyer's mothers decided she is gay and wanted her son to go to court and help her get a marriage license so she could marry her 'partner.' I sent the following letter to ABC yesterday and really did not expect a reply, but I did get one.
My original message was:
ABC is obsessed with the subject of homosexuality. I will no longer watch any of your attempts to convince the world that homosexuality is OK. ' THE PRACTICE' can be a fairly good show, but last night's program was so typical of your agenda. You picked the 'dufus' of the office to be the one who was against the idea of his mother being gay, and made him look like a whiner because he had convictions.
This type of mentality calls people like me a 'gay basher.' Read the first chapter of Romans (that's in the Bible) and see what the apostle Paul had to say about it.... He, God and Jesus were all 'gay bashers'. What if she'd fallen in love with her cocker spaniel? Is that an alternative life style? (By the way, the Bible speaks against that, too.)
--Jim Neugent
Here is ABC's reply from the ABC on-line webmaster:
How about getting your nose out of the Bible (which is ONLY a book of stories compiled by MANY different writers hundreds of years ago) and read the declaration of independence (what our nation is built on), where it says 'All Men are Created equal,' and try treating them that way for a change! Or better yet, try thinking for yourself and stop using an archaic book of stories as your lame crutch for your existence. You are in the minority in this country, and your boycott will not affect us at ABC or our freedom of statement.
Jim Neugent's second response to ABC:
Thanks for your reply. From your harsh reply, evidently I hit a nerve. I will share it with all with whom I come in contact. Hopefully, the Arkansas Democrat Newspaper will include it in one of their columns and I will be praying for you.
Jim Neugent
Note: Wouldn't Satan just love it if people stopped using the Bible for a crutch? Please resend this to everyone in your mailbox. Thanks , Jim Neugent
I wonder if the person from ABC considered how many people would read this e-mail! This is one we should definitely pass on.
I generally just delete these things from my inbox, but I couldn't let this one go. I started to BCC everyone on the original mail, something like a hundred people (which is ironic, considering the last part of my reply)
(Oddly enough, one of the CC's was a mike at michaelmooreDOTcom I'm NOT going to give him a link from here, NO WAY)
Here's my reply:
According to Snopes, that's a true story, but not the ENTIRE story.
Here's the rest, from the website:
It didn't take long, through the power of the press and the Internet, before Mr. Neugent's message and the ABC webmaster's reply were causing a stir all over the country. ABC, after having investigated the matter, sent Mr. Neugent an official apology:
Dear Mr. Neugent:
We apologize for the e-mail message that was sent to you with comments that reflect neither the view of ABC nor of its executives. Viewer mail is traditionally handled by our Audience Information department for response. Your message was inappropriately handled by a programmer from ABC.com. I want to assure you that the response that you received does not in any way reflect the views of ABC Television, and most importantly is not at all consistent with the manner in which KATV, our valued partner in Little Rock, would ever treat their audience/community members.
Unfortunately, as in any organization, there are bound to be a few individuals that step out of line. To that end, we completed a comprehensive investigation into the matter earlier this afternoon. While the individual was deeply contrite and wanted to apologize to you, we felt that his actions were reprehensible and terminated him immediately.
Specifically in response to your original concerns regarding the subject of homosexuality in our programming, the ABC programming department has tried to treat such subjects in a sensitive manner. We recognize that we are serving a large, diverse audience with a wide range of attitudes towards all types of entertainment programming. We believe that programs thoughtfully reflecting social issues existing in our present society constitute proper television faire. We appreciate your original comments and take serious note of your thoughts on the potential direction of future story lines.
We are glad that you brought the e-mail incident to our attention. We truly regret that this happened, and we hope you understand by our actions that we will not tolerate this kind of behavior from any member of our staff.
Finally, I would like to once again add that the response that you received should in no way be attributed to our partner in Little Rock, KATV. As you well know, KATV has been the news and public affairs leader in Little Rock for years, and will be for many more. A finer, more committed television station does not exist. I would not want their reputation to suffer in any way due to our mishap.
Please accept our apologies and regrets.
Sincerely,
Daren Benzi
ABC Television Network
I put in some more "debunker" links:
More at these links:
http://www.breakthechain.org/exclusives/rudeabc.html
http://urbanlegends.about.com/library/blneugent.htm
http://www.truthminers.org/abc.htm
http://www.trendmicro.com/vinfo/hoaxes/hoaxdetails.asp?HName=ABC+Response+to+Jim+Neugent
http://www.truthorfiction.com/rumors/a/abc-practice.htm
http://www.bighoaxes.com/hoaxe_12_247.html
There are dozens more, and one person...who lives in Childress...says there never was a Coach Neugent at that school.
I understand why people would be upset, though. I know what the Bible says, but I also think that God makes each and all of us exactly what we are...in other words, I think people are "born gay". Personally, I think that's a hurdle God has given those people to overcome, just as He has chosen to give other people severe handicaps at birth. (why would God make me nearsighted? I don't dwell on it, because He promises us these things will be revealed to us someday)
I wouldn't argue against the premise that they have something mentally "wrong" with them, because who in their right mind would choose that lifestyle? A lifestyle that could cause them to lose their friends and family when they find out, a lifestyle that sets them apart in "normal" society, a lifestyle that can get them beaten and sometimes murdered for their sexual proclivities. To me, a fairly new and definitely rough-edged Christian, that attitude of hating gays and wishing them dead is anything but Christian.
Then again, I'm secure in knowing just who and what I am, pathetic as that might be in other's eyes. I've always thought that folks that protested the most just might have some doubts about their own sexual orientation.
Granted, gays don't help their cause by marching in the streets in San Francisco, displaying their "perversions" for all the world to see, but I have known quite a few gay people personally and for the most part, they're honest, caring Americans, and as such, deserve the same rights as do the rest of us. (I know some gay guys who are certainly more "manly" that are many straight guys) I guess my beliefs stem from being of a libertarian bent; i.e. I think govt. has absolutely NO BUSINESS in our homes and particularly our bedrooms. I also think the govt. has no right regulating marriage for gays...or for straights either, for that matter.
None of us are born perfect; it's the quest for perfection, our life-long attempt to walk in Jesus' path, that makes us Christians.
Did you know that incidences of gay teen suicide are on the order of three times that of straight teens? Have you ever had to justify your own existence, wonder why the majority of society hates you? How would you like to live a half-life in the shadows of society, ejected from your family for something you feel you have no control over? How would you like to constantly search your soul for redemption and be told by so-called "Christians" that you have absolutely no chance at entering the Kingdom of Heaven?
(to me, adultery is by far the worse sin; you've lied to yourself, you've lied to your spouse and worse yet, you've broken your sacred wedding vows and lied to God. You've managed to destroy your own life, your family's and damaged at least one other family. I DEFY you to tell me that being gay is worse than that. )
Ever wondered how many people are gay? Kinsey said it was 1 in 10, but that's been debunked and most "scientific" surveys put the number at around 3%. Do you have 100 friends? Most of us do and we're blessed to have that many. Stop and think, though, just how many of that 100 are gay. You might say "none" but the odds are that at least three ARE gay...but you don't know who they are for sure and they'll never tell you because of society's attitude --YOUR attitude-- towards gays.
I quit watching The Practice long before it went off the air, not because of any "gay" material or anti-Christian shows they air. No, I quit watching it because it became a crappy, inane show, as do many that have outlasted their entertainment value to me. Personally, I find Oprah's endorsement of Obama and her touting her "New Age Christianity" much more offensive than I do Ellen or any other gay performer's appearances or shows.
I'm always reminded of these verses when I think of how I should deal with my fellow man, sinners and saints alike:
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Matthew 25:31-46 (King James Version)
31 When the Son of man shall come in his glory, and all the holy angels with him, then shall he sit upon the throne of his glory:
32 And before him shall be gathered all nations: and he shall separate them one from another, as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats:
33 And he shall set the sheep on his right hand, but the goats on the left.
34 Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world:
35 For I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in:
36 Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me.
37 Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink?
38 When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee?
39 Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee?
40 And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.
41 Then shall he say also unto them on the left hand, Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels:
42 For I was an hungred, and ye gave me no meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink:
43 I was a stranger, and ye took me not in: naked, and ye clothed me not: sick, and in prison, and ye visited me not.
44 Then shall they also answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, or athirst, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not minister unto thee?
45 Then shall he answer them, saying, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to me.
46 And these shall go away into everlasting punishment: but the righteous into life eternal.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Wouldn't this --shouldn't this-- apply to our treatment of gay people?
Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.
Note: Wouldn't God just love it if people stopped using the Bible for an excuse to hate?
One more thing: why on Earth would people just NOW be getting upset about something that happened nearly ten years ago?
June 10, 2008
Incest to the Test
No, not anything to do w/ "My Sister's Feet". I'm sure this title will bring the weirdos outta the woodwork when Google indexes this post.
A couple of years ago, I signed up for the Yahoo Personals, a matchmaking service. It was frustrating not being able to contact my matches with the free version, so I paid for a six months subscription.
I didn't have much luck, to put it mildly. I got a few dozen replies and even had an email relationship with a few of the women. I had written in my profile I wanted to take it slow and know from personal experience that it's not hard to get to know someone even if I've not met them in person. (People's words say so much about them, you see.) Some of the email relationships didn't last long; a couple of my matches weren't satisfied with my cautious attitude and wanted to meet without getting to know each other first.
That wasn't what I wanted, not by a long shot. I truly believe that appearances aren't all that important. (I certainly wanted my matches to feel that way!)
I had one woman tell me straight out "I need it, I need it BAD." I'm not put-off by agressive women, and perhaps a sex-starved woman might be the ideal match for SOME men, but not for me. To say something like that to a total stranger goes way beyond the pale, wouldn't you agree? I hope that woman is all right today, and didn't get strangled by the Texas version of Jack the Ripper.
(What would one take to a first meeting with a woman such as that? Flowers, candy or a pail of water? Certainly one would want to take condoms, the thickest they make)
(and besides that, hooking up with a nymphomaniac would be, IMHO, just like owning a bar; it'd be fun for a little while....)
A couple of others must have not read my profile because they asked me if I smoked (it was on my profile) and when I told them I did, told me that wasn't acceptable and one even said "You'll just have to quit, then." I wanted to meet her just so I could have a pipe, a cigar and a cigarette crammed in my mouth and then could blow smoke in her face.
Another woman and I exchanged emails for several weeks and I thought everything was going A-OK. I was to the point where I thought I might like to meet her in person. Things fell apart when the topic of one mail was "What do you like to read?" She said she read her Bible (a good thing!) but when I mentioned that I loved the Harry Potter series...well, all of a sudden I was the Anti-Christ. Sheesh.
I had signed up for weekly notifications, and I knew the end of this experiment was near when I was matched up with a woman I had dated several years ago; we had a very rocky relationship and my family didn't like her, my friends didn't like her and to be honest, I really didn't like her much. It was by far the worst relationship I have ever been in.
(her profile was full of lies; her age, her natural hair color and how many times she had been married. I understood her lies about her own disposition because any sane man would've run from the truth.)
So, when the six months subscription was over, I figured it certainly wasn't worth another $79.95 to match up with nutjobs, nymphos and holier-than-thou religious wackos.
If I want to get beat-up, I'll just go to a biker bar, walk in and loudly say "Harley-Davidson? Ain't that some kinda Japanese motor-sicle?"
For some reason ( I guess I was bored ) I recently put up another profile, but kept getting it rejected. (I wasn't descriptive enough for the service, go figger) I did, however, get the email with my first match.
It was my cousin.
I've deleted my profile.
Rattlesnakes in Palo Duro Canyon
ORIGINAL POST HAS BEEN EDITED
(to add information, to correct my atrocious spelling and grammar, the usual stuff)
Updated as needed.
NOTE: I'm now not for sure if these photos are from PD Canyon. The photos were horrifying and I know a sight like that definitely COULD be somewhere here in the Texas Panhandle. ( or in surrounding states)
A video at YouTube has these same photos and claims they were taken in Wyoming. Another video looks to be similar country, but doesn't have the same images.
This is probably yet another case of an email "spoof" or at the very least, a mistake as to where the photos were taken.
So, my apologies to all who have found this post via Google, my apologies to all who regularly read this blog and my apologies to whoever owns these photos.
Things like this shouldn't happen...but will probably happen again.
Happens to the best of us. Happens a bunch to a doofus like me.
Here's the original post.
My neighbor sent me these photos earlier this a.m. She didn't say who took them, and I'm normally loathe to publish something like this, not knowing to whom they belong or who I should credit, but thought they might be of interest to the readers of this blog.
So, if someone reading this owns these photos and objects to me putting them in this pathetic excuse for a blog, just email me and I'll be more than happy to take them down. Really, I'll be happy.
My toes are still curling up and I'll probably have nightmares tonight.
Click the photos for larger view.
I honestly believe that all God's creatures have a purpose and a right to exist on this planet; I also am concerned about the environment but looking at these I can't help but think:
"Five gallons of gasoline and a match...."
End of original post
Here's the last mail I got about rattlesnakes. I honestly think that's real as to the location, as well as the perspective of the shot influencing weight/length.
My last encounter with a rattler Snakes Alive!
Here's a photo a friend sent me a couple of years ago. It's supposed to be in Kansas, and since he is a State of Kansas highway employee, I figured he could vouch for the location.
The funny thing is that this photo also made the rounds, and it eventually got back to me as being in a Texas highway culvert.
I know we Texans are prone to brag, even to stretch the truth some, but we're not supposed to out-and-out lie about things. (well, not all the time, anyway)
Thanks to all for the emails regarding this, and thanks also for being polite. That's why this blog has limits on posting. I don't mind being told I'm wrong, but I draw the line at being called names because I've made a mistake.
(If I enjoyed that sort of thing, I would've stayed married)
One reader from Yukon, OK sent me this link; seems that the mail has made its way out West and now the snakes are in California.
Man, those snakes sure get around, don't they? Faster than a speeding email.
Thanks for the link!
Palo Duro Canyon official website
Some good photos there, loads of information on the canyon.
Sorry, but comments for this post have been closed. If you have complaints, comments or questions, please use the email address on the button at the top of the page, thanks.
Sneaky See-Through Super-Hero
I'm told I'm fairly transparent anyway....
| Your Superpower Should Be Invisibility |
 You are stealth, complex, and creative. You never face problems head on. Instead, you rely on your craftiness to get your way. A mystery to others, you thrive on being a little misunderstood. You happily work behind the scenes... because there's nothing better than a sneak attack! Why you would be a good superhero: You're so sly, no one would notice... not even your best friends Your biggest problem as a superhero: Missing out on all of the glory that visible superheroes get |
June 9, 2008
Wasps After W.A.S.P.
He had no flowers on his stone, so I decided to take some of the extras I had brought along and place on his grave. I usually also pull a few weeds around the stones and there was a particularly stubborn clump of goatheads just under a beautiful praying cherub statue. I moved the statue over and transferred my camera from one hand to the other so I could get my pocketknife out to cut the roots of that horrible sticker-producing weed.
(I hate those things, they're all over, the stickers get on your pants and shoes and when you get out of your car and cut across your lawn you've just started your own goathead patch. We had so many of the ******* things on our football field, the coaches would make us pull them up during our water breaks, we called it "Goathead Bowl" )
About that time, a swarm of yellowjackets/wasps came boiling out of the hole visible at the bottom left of statue in the following picture:
(click for larger view)
We Texans are prone to exaggerate, but I swear there were several thousand extremely angry wasps in the surrounding air in one second. Ok, ok, maybe a hundred, but they WERE P.O.'d.
The rest of the photo is blurred, as are the little yellow bits that are the wasps. Their wings were going ninety miles an hour, but if I'd have had the camera tilted a little bit more, you'd have seen a blurry pic of my fat butt going 100mph, heading in the other direction.
I've been stung before as a youth, by all sorts of bees, scorpions, spiders and such and came out fine. My dad, though, as he got older, became deathly allergic to them. Pop passed on the baldness gene and an often petulant nature to me so I'm just figurin' I should prob. stay away from wasps now that I've gone past the half-century mark.
And momma, if you're reading this from heaven, this is one of those cases a person SHOULD run with a knife in their hand. I'm no cherub, not even close to being a mature angel, but I looked like that (praying) when I got in my pickup and rolled up the windows. I also put 14 slashes in my dashboard with that knife, too, rolling up the window.
I'm a Raconteur Wannabe
From the Word of the Day feed in the right-hand column:
raconteur \rack-on-TUR\, noun: One who excels in telling stories and anecdotes.
He has an excellent raconteur's mind, memory, vocabulary and tongue, brings in a story just at the right time, in the right manner, serves his anecdotes perfectly either piping hot or ice-cold as tragedies.-- Anatole Pohorilenko and James Crump, When We Were Three
The pronunciation makes me think of Dolly Parton travelling from concert to concert.
June 8, 2008
One Hail of a Storm
Just took that pic about ten minutes ago. It took several shots to get one that was decent and without exaggerating any, it probably lost a quarter of its size, melting in my hand while I tried to hold the camera with the other.
All day long it felt really "funky" to me and anyone who lives or ever has lived in the Panhandle knows what I mean. The barometer was dropping and it felt as though there wasn't any oxygen in the air. The sky had a green tinge and then the temperature dropped ten degrees in a minute, then the hail started coming down, sounding like a machine-gun nest on top of my roof.
At first the hail was pea-sized, then started falling in larger and larger sizes. I ran out and got a golf-ball sized stone and tried to take a photo of it, but couldn't concentrate as I was a little afraid the tornado sirens might start their fearful wail.
I knew the storm was coming; I had heard the weather forecast and when severe weather threatens, I go to the National Weather site and see which way the storm is headed. I started to batten down the hatches when I saw the "white" on the radar profile. "Red" and "Orange" scare the heck outta me and white is the "worst".
This is a screenshot of the current radar and it looks as though we might have another round of hail headed this way, but it will pass just to the north if we're lucky.
Still, I had best unplug the computer...again.
The Beej is somewhere in this house, but I don't know where. I wish he'd let me in on the best hiding places.
Like a Rock
The Ten Commandments
Groom Cross
This is one of those times where I was trying to be more "artsy" than I have any right of being. On this photo, I lay down on my side trying to get the reflection of the huge cross behind me and didn't think about the reflection of the huge pile of lard laying on its side trying to take the picture.
June 7, 2008
Big Hits on a Little Topic
Since I got the Feedjit feed, it's been fun to see the various places and people that find this blog. There have been hits from all over the world and quite a few states here in the U.S.
Google has provided the most fascinating statistics, though. This blog has had recent activity from being listed in the search engine for various news articles I've cited and commented upon, but by and far the largest amt. of hits have been for the Gay Irish Dwarfs article I wrote. We're up close to the top for those search terms: Gay+Irish+Dwarfs.
Since my article was tongue-in-cheek and nothing to do with any sort of fetish, I'm sure most of the visitors are disappointed. (I've never gone out with a dwarf, but I have been told by some of my dates that I was a mental midget)
I'm not quite sure what to think about it all. Sure, I'm glad for the hits, but I also wouldn't want anyone to think that this is some sort of "kinky" or fetish-type blog. (although I HAVE been thinking about writing something about my fondness for pantyhose...)
Recently this blog got a hit to an article I wrote: "My Sister's Feet", and following the entry URL, found out that the visitor had come from a Google search "I+Love+My+Sister's+Feet".
Hey, I'm no prude, each to his own, but...that's just a little TOO kinky for me.
Maybe I need to be a little more careful how I title my posts?
June 6, 2008
Bjorn Borg Born
Today, in 1956.
Never was a huge fan of Borg; was more of a Jimmy Conners guy.
I just couldn't pass up the alliteration.
You Can't Fight City Hall
I got a certified letter from the city today; seems they object to an old fridge that's up against a storage building. It was dumped in the middle of my alley a few years ago, and when the trash truck came, they didn't take it away but instead pushed it onto my property.
I called the sanitation dept. asking them to come get it, but when they came, they said I had to have a sticker on it attesting to the fact I had all of the freon properly removed. Of course, they didn't believe me when I told them how it came to be on my property.
So, I call a plumber friend of mine who also has an heating/ac license to come certify it. He told me he had to charge me for it, it's the law. No problem, I said, but when he got here we found out the compressor had already been removed.
Catch-22. I can't get it certified because the guts are gone (and the freon gone to the winds) and I can't take it to the dump because it's not been certified.
(Some wag in my political group told me to hook onto it and drag it downtown to City Hall, put it in the judge's parking spot. All I know is that if I did that, it'd be 30 days or longer until I posted here again and my name wouldn't be "Mike", it'd be Inmate #454308)
B for Baculum
They looked like something a witch doctor would wear around his neck; a dozen or more bones on a wire.
I was about seven years old and was out in the garage with my dad when I first noticed them.
"What are those, daddy?" I asked.
"What's that, son?" dad asked in turn, looking up from whatever it was he was doing.
"Those bones on the wall there." I replied, pointing to them.
I remember my dad smiling as he paused; I waited on him as he thought about his answer.
"That's the business end of a gentleman coon." he said after a few seconds, grinning as if there was some private joke in his answer.
I frowned as I thought about his answer. "Business end?" Hmmm.... I knew the barrel of a gun was the "business end", so maybe this too was something dangerous, maybe it was some sort of claw the raccoon had. Whatever it was, they certainly looked cool, almost like ivory.
"Can I have one?" I asked my pop.
"Sure." he said, and reached up and got the set off of the garage wall. "You can have 'em all." and handed them to me.
I was thrilled. I didn't know exactly what I had, but I didn't much care.
"What are they good for?" I asked.
"Well.." dad considered the question, with another small grin on his face. Snickering a little bit, he went on: "They're not much good for a coon now, but some guys make keychains, even whittle them down and make toothpicks out of 'em. "
"They polish up real good." he told me. "I'll get'cha a little steel wool and you'll see."
By now you've figured out just exactly what the thing is, I expect, and if you haven't, your mother and/or father should've explained the birds and the bees to you a little bit more, I think.
The baculum (also penis bone, penile bone or os penis) is a bone found in the penis of most mammals. It is absent in humans, equids, marsupials, lagomorphs, and hyenas, amongst others. It is used for copulation and varies in size and shape by species. Its characteristics are sometimes used to differentiate between similar species.
The oosik of Native Alaskan cultures is a polished and sometimes carved baculum of various large northern carnivores such as walruses. The raccoon baculum is sometimes worn as a luck or fertility charm.
The word baculum originally meant "stick" or "staff" in Latin. The homologue to the baculum in female mammals is known as the baubellum or os clitoridis or os clitoris.
It's too bad there wasn't the Internet when I was a kid; otherwise I wouldn't have taken it to Show and Tell the next week.
My teacher had a funny look on her face when I told her it was "the business end of a gentleman coon", but it wasn't anything like the one on my dad's face when he first "explained" what it was.
The look on my momma's face when the teacher called her and told her about it was an entirely different one altogether.
Calling All Cows
In case you've forgotten (or more likely, never knew), the National Cowcalling Contest in Miami, Texas is this weekend. (always the first weekend in June). The festivities will kick off tonight with the Frontier Follies ( a show put on by locals), with a barbeque and the cowcalling tomorrow.
Since I last attended, they've added more events, such as a Texas Hold'em tournament, a steak cook-off and several others. It's also when many class reunions are held and my big sister and I went to mine a few years back. (the good thing about reunions is that you get to see many people you haven't seen in years; conversely, the bad thing is you have to see many people you never wanted to see again)
You can read more about it at the official town website.
From the site:
Miami's main event, the National Cow Calling Championships, began in 1949 at the suggestion of "Old Tack" - otherwise known as humorist, columnist, publisher, and conservationist Gene Howe of Amarillo.
Let cow calling introduce you to the prettiest town in Texas. If you think the Panhandle is flat, you're in for a very pleasant surprise. Our canyons, mesas, and tree-lined roads are unforgettable!
My favorite part of the entire weekend was always the Follies; sometimes it was a chore sitting through certain portions of it, but it was always a pleasure to hear a classmate's mother sing; she had a voice like a combination of Patsy Cline and Peggy Lee.
My least favorite part was the Saturday night dance. Oh, I suppose if women with big hair-do's, drunken cowboys and fistfights are your thing.... I used to get a buzz just from all of the excess testosterone in the air, along with copious amounts of hairspray and perfume, never needed any beer.
(I blame country and western dances for depleting the ozone layer)
(To be honest, the first time I ever got drunk was at a Cowcalling, back when I was about 13. Long story, but I didn't drink anything else until I was 18 or so. It still makes me nauseous to think about that night. Did you know you can drink a pint of whiskey and a six pack of beer and then vomit five gallons? One gallon went down the gutter in front of my big sister's house and four gallons went onto her carpet)
The cowcalling part was always a little bit of an embarrassment to me, namely that I was embarrassed for some of the callers. All of the callers, actually. But, if it didn't bother them....
Anyone can call cows...if you can go "Whooooooooooo" as loud and as long as you can, then you too can call cows. (Back when I helped feed cattle, I always just used the truck horn to get them to come feed, but usually not even having to do that. Cows are dumb, but they ain't stupid. They're usually at the gate before you can get it open. I'm the same way when I'M hungry)
Did I ever get up there and participate? Well, no, I'm not that stupid brave. The event is held just after noon, and I never have drank anything before around six in the afternoon.
Actually, I'm fairly sure there's not enough booze in the world to make me get up there.
June 5, 2008
What it Was, Was Football - Andy Griffith
We had this .45 single when I was a kid and I used to listen to it all the time.
June 4, 2008
Arrington Ranch House
If you're a movie buff you've probably recognized it from Cast Away, the 2000 release starring Tom Hanks and Helen Hunt. Hanks plays a FedEx globetrotting troubleshooter who, after a plane crash, is stranded on a small island.
The angel wing motif was the trademark of the artist character who lived at this ranch and who sent and received pkgs. from FedEx. She was a metal sculptor and her husband was in Russia, their relationship a very tiny but interesting detail of the plot.
This is another shot of the gate and the barn where she worked on her pieces.
The house was featured again near the end of the movie, in the scene where Tom Hanks stood on the porch and knocked on the door. When no one answered, he left the package--which had the angel wings on it, and which also was featured throughout another large part of the movie-- and a note saying the package had saved his life.
I don't think anyone was there; it's now a bed and breakfast but there were no cars or other vehicles other than the farm trucks and tractor in front of the barn.
I did take a photo of this new marker:
Why is it that Texas signs look like Texas belt buckles (or vice versa) and are as big, bright and shiny as our womenfolk's hair-dos? Just like the stars, deep in the heart, I guess. I took two shots of this new sign and both had the reflection of a big doofus in them, I haven't yet figured out just what causes that.
At the IMDB Cast Away listing, there are quite a few message threads about this movie; some, like far too many one sees on the 'net, are full of inane comments, but there are other posts that speak of how profoundly the movie affected them (as it did me) or asking questions about the movie such as "where was the island?" as well as "where is the farm house?"
One guy who posted on the IMDB site has a website with some very nice photos including many I did not get, such as the interior of the house, a close-up shot of the note Hanks' character leaves at the end and autographed later by the actor. The note is on Arrington Ranch stationery, by-the-way.
(the site loads slow, even for me with a fairly fast connection; it's also in a "turn the page" style slideshow, a little tricky at first. It's a great site, though, sure worth a look if you're interested in seeing more of this particular bit of movie trivia)
I didn't go on to the intersection where Hanks' character was standing at the end of the film, but I stood in the middle of the dirt road in front of the house and took a couple of shots. The next shot is looking North, back the way I had come from Hwy 60, the turn off being 12 miles or so east of Miami in Hemphill County, another dozen or so miles to the northeast lies the larger town of Canadian.
This is looking South, showing a bit of how the terrain is at that particular spot, gentle rolling hills, great pasture land. We've had twice the normal amount of rain and the fields are fairly green and lush but this day was so hot the moisture was being sucked out of every living thing, including myself.
I'm not for sure what the attraction would be to stay out there; the road is fairly busy, what with a fair amount of oil field activity and even though I'm "oil field trash" and know you have to break some eggs to make an omelet, the unsightly scars left on this beautiful landscape by the fresh caliche roads and well locations, tank batteries and other production equipment pretty much spoils the view and beauty. I could make out the tops of three drilling rigs from the next hill over, so at least this area is benefitting from a robust economy.
I'm not sure what there would be to DO out there, either. (I kept thinking that getting to sit on the front porch in the shade and snap green beans might have been the highlight of a day back then) I hadn't been out there in a long time, not since I was helping to drill wells back in the late 70's and early 80's, but even without the ugly signs of progress, there's not much to see out there, just those rolling hills broken by some gullies and wash-outs that collectively don't quite deserve the name "canyon". If you wanted to brave the rattlesnakes, you could probably find some wild plums to pick, but I can't think of any other recreation out there unless it would be stealing oil field equipment or rustling cattle.
(Edit to add: I shouldn't be so harsh about there being "nothing to do" out there. To be honest, there's all sorts of wildlife to see such as antelope, deer, raccoons, many species of birds, etc. You'd still need to keep the rattlesnakes in mind if you go traipsin' off down in those gullies )
What one did while staying there would depend upon whom one was staying there with, I suppose. That's probably also the reason, that being not much to do, that old ranch families had so many children.
(back when I was roughnecking around the area, I worked with some local boys named "Farrington" and they were always going around adding an "F" to all the Arrington signs. That's been years and years...and years and years ago, the statute of limitations has run out)
The sky was threatening some severe weather, so I headed back into Miami. Not too far out of town a van got right on my tail and wouldn't back off. The speed limits drop severely as you drive into Miami and I certainly wasn't going to get a ticket being the first one in a close convoy not of my making just to satisfy someone's impatience.
He stayed almost on my bumper right into town, right into the 35mph limit and first chance I got I grabbed my camera to take a photograph; I had to turn it around and look at the LCD window in my rear view mirror and still try to keep an eye on the road.
Seeing my camera, he eased off; guess he thought I was doing it to turn him in, and I would've if he'd been more aggressive and not backed off, but I took it because I couldn't believe what sort of truck it was...and you'll prob. have to click the pic. in order to make out the company logo on the front of the delivery van:
If you can't make it out, here's a cropped bit of the original photo above, at the highest resolution.
Yup, was a FedEx truck.
Wonder if that was Tom Hanks driving?
For those of you who have found this post via a Google search, you *may* be interested in a followup post on the intersection that leads to the ranch house. It was shown at the first of the movie, and a longer scene at the crossroads ended the film.
Cast Away Crossroads
1/12/09
Interesting article about the history of the house, plus some photos of it and the intersection
In PDF format
09/16/09
Added a new post about the locations
Cast Away Locations in Google Maps
I'm Such a Dope
Your Personality Is Like Marijuana |
 You're laid back and easy going, so much so that taking a shower is often too much trouble for you! Nevertheless, you're quite popular, and many people enjoy your company. You're rarely turned down. You're prone to giggle fits, paranoia, and forgetting where you are exactly. At your best: You're relaxed, mellow, and without a care in the world. What people like about being around you: You're accepting, non-judgmental, and often quite insightful. What people dislike about being around you: You can be a little too spaced out and apathetic. How addicted people get to you: A lot, but they're having too much fun to notice. |
My 2¢ on # 2
June 4, 2008
A Russian official has said that the recent toilet troubles in the International Space Station might force the crew members to leave.
In other words, they may have to evacuate because they cannot evacuate.
June 3, 2008
The Mailbox
My pop's been dead for over two years now, so I guess it's safe to confess my sins. Well, one of 'em, anyway.It was my 21st birthday and my pals wanted to do something "special" for me, so we loaded up in JB's car and drove to Pampa, via the back way, to get some beer.
One friend, not having any money to buy me anything, instead gave me a huge box of bottles to throw at signs along the way. Now, I'm not saying that's a good thing to do; it's illegal, it's littering, and sometimes the bottles can bounce off and come right back to you. Still, it was a "fun" thing to do.
There wasn't a lot to do back then, come to think of it.
I was riding "shotgun" and chunking the bottles at any sign which whizzed by, missing far more often than hitting them. (several of the bottles that were handed to me were full of beer, drained, then thrown. That's why my accuracy wasn't so hot.) We were about a mile away from my folk's turnoff when someone said "Betcha won't throw one at yer old man's mailbox."
"Thass right." I told 'em. "I know better."
"You ain't gotta hair on yer a$$." came the reply. (in unison)
I picked out the largest bottle, and waited; I knew what I'd do, I'd make an effort but not aim, JUST to show them that I did indeed have some hair on my a$$. I really didn't want to destroy dad's mailbox as he had just replaced it after it being more-or-less destroyed by a snow plow the previous winter.
"Here it comes!" yelled my pals. (in unison)
I flicked the quart bottle out, not even aiming but was horrified when I heard a "Whack-Crash!!!" as we sped by. Everyone was laughing (in unison) their a$$es off (the ones with hair) but I was filled with dread. Somehow I knew, especially in a small town, that my dad would find out.
We got our beer, and the day after my birthday was hangover day, but was also the day my mom had invited me out to give me my present and the cake she had baked for me.
As soon as I walked in the house, my dad pounced on me "Did you see my mailbox?"
Oh Lord. He knows. Not just the Lord knows, but dad knows and I was more afraid of him than I was afraid of God. I managed to stammer that I hadn't noticed. Pop raged on.
"Yeah, some little sunuvab*tch threw a big beer bottle at it, ruined it. I had JUST bought the damn thing, too!"
I didn't know what to say. I knew not to say anything because I thought this might be a trap for my dad to get me to admit what I'd done.
Dad continued with his anger.
"I'd like to whip the little b*st*rd's a$$ who did that." he fumed.
Still afraid to say anything, I couldn't help but find some humor in his cursing. "Sunuvab*tch" and "b*st*rd" were getting a little too personal, but pop didn't know it.
Getting angrier as he went on, dad continued:
"Nah, I'd just get in trouble for that. What I would rather do is kick that little sh*t*$$'s father...for not raising him better."
Talk about conflicting emotions; I wanted to shrink to nothing because I was ashamed of what I had done, esp. to my dad...but on the other hand, I was trying hard not to giggle thinking about my dad punching himself out. I also wanted to puke; partly because of the hangover, partly from fear.
I waited a couple months, then bought my dad one of those humongous mailboxes, the biggest they made. I also bought him some beer. In cans.
June 2, 2008
Four Mikes & a Malcolm in the Morning
I was half-watching TV early this a.m., an old re-run of Malcolm in the Middle. I enjoy the show, but never watched it when it was on primetime network TV.
The show was about the family joining a church in order to take advantage of free daycare. (if you've never seen the show, the family is "sweetly despicable" that way) As I said, I wasn't paying full attention to the show but perked up when I heard something very profound, a lovely quote.
The show was over shortly after and I changed the channel to my favorite sports show, Mike and Mike in the Morning. (Wiki Entry Here) I then got online, thinking I would look up the quote, see to whom it was attributed, but made the mistake of opening up my email program at the same time I opened up a browser window. Needless to say, I got sidetracked reading mails, following some links and then thought "What was it I was gonna look up?"
At that very moment one of my favorite football players of all-time, Mike Ditka, a guest on one of the Mike and Mike show segments said the exact same quote I was wanting to research.
"Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, today is God's gift; that's why it's called 'the present'. "
ThinkExist.com, my favorite quote site, attributes the saying to Joan Rivers. (of all people) Others say it's spun-off from various essays or poems. I don't much care, because I spent more time researching the quote than I wished.
Instead, I obsessed about how many "M's" I could cram into the title of this blog post.
(I'm the fourth Mike, btw.)
May 31, 2008
"Home" Again
Did you know you can return back to the "home" page (with the latest postings) simply by clicking the logo at the top of this blog? (or any other Blogger blog)
May 30, 2008
Excellent Ellipsis Essay
Ellipsis, I love 'em and use them far too often. It's a bad habit, but I cling to the practice because sometimes it's simply a lazy way to insinuate something without having to explain...well, you know.
Wiki defines ellipsis:
Ellipsis (plural ellipses; from Greek ἔλλειψις 'omission') in printing and writing refers to the row of three full stops (... or . . . ) or asterisks (* * *) indicating an intentional omission. This punctuation mark is also called a suspension point, points of ellipsis, periods of ellipsis, or colloquially, dot-dot-dot. An ellipsis is sometimes used to indicate a pause in speech, an unfinished thought or, at the end of a sentence, a trailing off into silence (aposiopesis).
The site goes on to say:
The use of ellipses can either mislead or clarify, and the reader must rely on the good intentions of the writer who uses it.
That's a pretty fair warning to anyone reading this blog. Ambiguity is probably one of my better traits, in fact. I am what I am....
I sometimes often misuse ellipses and sometimes almost always fail to end a sentence that's ending in ellipses with the correct extra and fourth period, the extra ellepses. I hope that's simply an oversight, a typo, and not some character fault.... It probably validates the fact that I'm lazy....
I'm making an effort to be correct. That might not be good enough for you, but...there ARE ellipses haters out there....
If they find their way to this blog....
I've used ellipses a lot, and have even been accused by a former girlfriend that I also speak that way. Imagine that.... I will have to admit I do sometimes speak haltingly... and sometimes st...st...st...stutter a bit. She and I had a rocky relationship, to put it mildly, and it finally ended badly after ending semi-badly a half-dozen previous times. I'm sure you know how that goes.... I also easily lose my train of thought which isn't hard when one has a one-track mind....
I always preferred to quietly breakup with her via a note left on her pillow or in a sock drawer. As per the definition of ellipses, I would write my sad and tortured thoughts in a melodramatic way: "I gave and gave to this relationship, but you never even tried...."
I quit writing those the next-to-last time we broke up when she said "Is this another one of those damn dot-dot-dot letters?"
Did you know that "dot-dot-dot" is the Morse symbol for the letter "S" as in "SOS"? I wasn't for sure...some folks don't know things like that. "- - -" or "Dash-Dash-Dash" is "O". Just thought I'd mention that... Sometimes I use dashes -- when I think they're better instead of ellipses--but usually only one - or at the most, two --.
FOUR dots .... or "dot-dot-dot-dot" is the Morse code for the letter "H".
Just thought you should know....
Now you can spell "HOSS" in Morse Code.
My next essay:
"What's so wrong with using three question marks??? "
May 29, 2008
I'm Seeing Double...Again
Ever watch Everybody Loves Raymond?
I never watched it; oh, I've seen bits and pieces of a few reruns, so I am familar with it and the cast. It's a cleverly written show, but I figure it will be on one channel or another (or several at the same time slot) for the next twenty years, so I expect I'll get to see each espisode a dozen or so times before I die.
Speaking of dying, I was saddened to hear of Peter Boyle's death back this last December.
(he's the one in the middle)
You may remember his role as The Monster in Young Frankenstein.
That brings me to this: If you're a regular reader of this blog (and the question would be: Why WOULD you be?) you would most likely know that I'm always "seeing double". No, not in vision, but seeing similarities between people. For instance, I sure think my friend's betrothed looks like a famous movie star and I had a post the other day where I thought the angel atop the empty tomb at the Groom Cross looks like my ex-wife.
As I've mentioned a hundred and forty two times before, I really love to go over to the Groom Cross and am particularly intrigued by the bronze statue's faces. One of my favorite stations is the first one, where Pilate is washing his hands and leaving Jesus to His fate.
After gazing into Pilate's face a dozen times and taking dozens of photos, sorting them, cropping the best ones down to how I like them, I've decided that Pilate has a double, too.
May 25, 2008
May 22, 2008
There's something green...
In my fridge, but I'm not sure if it's old meat or new cheese.
What Your Fridge Says About You |
 You don't need a lot of stuff to be happy. There isn't a greedy bone in your body. You tend to be a fairly thrifty person. You splurge occasionally, but you're mostly a saver. You don't tend to be a very adventurous person, but you do surprise everyone now and then. You have a bit of a wild side. You try to be responsible, but you don't always succeed. Your heart is in the right place though. You are likely to be an alcoholic. |
The results say I'm an alcoholic only because there's nothing in my freezer but a couple of bottles of beer.
May 21, 2008
Two Ways to Look at Everything
Another from the archives:
My wife and I were sitting at a table at my high school reunion, and I kept staring at a drunken lady swigging her drink as she sat alone at a nearby table.
My wife asks, 'Do you know her?'
'Yes,' I sighed, 'She's my old girlfriend. I understand she took to drinking right after we split up those many years ago, and I hear she hasn't been sober since.'
'My Word!' says my wife, 'Who would think a person could go on celebrating that long?'
So you see, there really are two ways to look at everything.
May 19, 2008
Poll Results
After I first put this in, I thought I'd probably have a zillion votes for "There's a best part?" but I was pleased to find that wasn't the case. (3 votes, and one was mine. Hey, I believe in being honest!)
I'm ending the poll a little early because I'd like to put in a semi-weekly (translated: "every now 'n then) one.
Thanks to all the folks who visit this pathetic excuse for a blog! Love to my friends, to hell with the rest of you!
obtrude
From the Word of the Day feed in the right-hand column:
obtrude \uhb-TROOD; ob-\, transitive verb:
1. To thrust out; to push out.
2. To force or impose (one's self, remarks, opinions, etc.) on others with undue insistence or without solicitation.
I would've guessed it was an ill-mannered gynocologist.
A Marine & A Sailor
Another from the email archives
A Marine and a sailor were sitting in a bar one day arguing over which was the superior service.
After a swig of beer the Marine says, "Well, we had Iwo Jima."
Arching his eyebrows, the sailor replies, "We had the Battle of Midway."
"Not entirely true", responded the Marine. "Some of those pilots were Marines, in fact, Henderson Field on Guadalcanal was named after a Marine pilot killed at the Battle of Midway."
The sailor responds, "Point taken."
The Marine then says, "We Marines were born at Tunn Tavern!"
The sailor, nodding agreement, says, "But we had John Paul Jones."
The argument continued until the sailor comes up with what he thinks will end the discussion. With a flourish of finality he says, "The Navy invented sex!"
The Marine replies, "That is true, but it was the Marines who introduced it to women."
