The Lottery is Racist!

I read posts every day, some which make me furious, others make me literally laugh out loud and some that do both and have me SMH.   This is one of that sort, one in a lottery forum I belong to but don't participate in very much.

why do black americans rarely win big jackpots

I wanted to chime in, but didn't.  Others have pointed out the idiocy of the OP more than enough.  Someone went to the trouble of finding official photographs of black lottery winners and others broke down the demographics.

I don't like to get serious in here all that much and won't this time either (or at least blather on interminably about it) , but just say that I'm getting tired of the racist label being thrown out there all the time.  I'm tired of being called a racist because I don't care for this President, tired of being called one because  - in most cases - I support the death penalty and sick to death of being called a racist because I believe something should be done about illegals flooding into this country...and am especially against granting amnesty to those who broke the law coming here and continue to break it by staying and/or using false identification to get benefits they do not deserve.

Using the word "racist" at every turn devalues the true meaning of that word, diminishes the insult when it is directed at people who truly deserve the term.  I don't think they've coined a word or phrase about it as they did "Godwin's Law" regarding using the word "Nazi" in a discussion, but they should.  

Night Moves - Bob Seger

You might recognize Matt LeBlanc (Friends) and Daphne Zuniga (Melrose Place). LeBlanc claims to have been drunk during the video, having shared a bottle of tequila with Seger immediately before the shoot.

Animals vs Reporters

Let's Play Two!

Playing for the Seattle Mariners in a 1990 game against the California Angels, Kenny Griffey Sr. and Ken Griffey Jr. became the only father and son teammates in major league baseball to hit back-to-back home runs. They were also the first father and son to play on the same team.

Shocking Quiz Results

Your Superpower Should Be Manipulating Electricity

You're highly reactive, energetic, and super charged. If the occasion calls for it, you can go from 0 to 60 in a split second. But you don't harness your energy unless you truly need to. And because of this, people are often surprised by what you are capable of. Why you would be a good superhero: You have the stamina to fight enemies for days. Your biggest problem as a superhero: As with your normal life, people would continue to underestimate you.

What Should Your Superpower Be?

Happy Friday the 13th!

I'm feeling lazy again. What's new? Last published 7/13/12

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Bump from a couple of years ago.

No need to waste a perfectly "good" post.

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Years ago in a galaxy far, far away....

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I hadn't been up very long, so I was sitting there picking at my "supper" my new bride had prepared for me. When you work the night shift (morning tour) on drilling rigs, your day gets turned around and eating spaghetti for "breakfast" is the norm, but still hard to get used to.

Her cooking took even more getting used to.

My wife (now ex) was reading the paper while I sat there watching the clock on the wall tick off the minutes before my ride came to pick me up. All of a sudden, she exclaimed

"Oh gosh, your horoscope!"

"What about it?" I asked without much interest, never having been enthused about that sort of thing. (it always struck me as funny that 100 million Chinese folks were gonna have the exact same sort of day that I was)

"Listen to this!" she went on. "It says 'Beware of working around dangerous machinery' !!!"

I sat there, not saying a thing. I was new to this married business and had made several bad mistakes already, one being that there's no good answers to questions such as "Does this make me look fat?"

("Sort of" isn't one of those good answers, lemme tell ya.)

"And it's Friday the 13th, too!" she exclaimed in fright.

I'm seldom in a good mood after waking up, but not so much after having such a heavy breakfast at nine o'clock at night and definitely not after trying to sleep during the day in a neighborhood full of kids.

What the heck, I thought. I'll torture her a little bit, just like she did me earlier in the afternoon while running the vacuum.

"Y'know, my rig's number is 13." I informed her.

She sat there, looking at me in horror. I went on.

"We're drilling to 13,000 feet, we're 13 miles out on the river road, there's 13 cattle guards between the highway and the rig."

Her mouth was gaped open, her worst fears realized.

"There's also 13 guys on the rig, come to think of it, four guys per crew plus the tool pusher."

For good measure, I went on, "Know what well we're drilling? It's the Flowers #13!" I tried to think of other 13's just to freak her out some more, but that was it.

She sat there for a minute and declared "Well, you'll just have to twist off tonight." using the oil field term for not showing up for work. She was catching on to being a roughneck's wife, for sure.

"I'd better not do that." I told her. "We need the money. " The subject of money was good for getting her to shut up or to talk, whichever one it was I needed her to do at that particular moment. I WAS catching on to this married stuff, I thought.

At the same time, my boss showed up, announcing his arrival with a blast of his car horn. As I started out the door I stopped and said:

"One good thing..." I went on. "If I get killed, you'll probably get a check for $13,000 bucks from the insurance company, I think that's the death benefit."

That wasn't the right thing to say. Maybe I DIDN'T know much about married life. She started to cry. Another impatient honk came from the idling car outside; I glanced at the clock and saw he was late in picking me up. Another minute won't hurt, I thought, and turned to her and with a hug and a quick smooch on the cheek I asked her:

"That's TODAY'S horoscope, right?" She sniffed and nodded her head.

"Think about it..." I said. "Today is nearly over,so my shift will be on the 14th!"

"I've slept THROUGH Friday the 13th!" I assured her.

Immediate relief showed in her eyes, but once again I showed I was a novice at marriage. With an evil grin on my face I said:

"You'll still get the money if I get killed, though."

I DID have some bad luck that day, that Friday the 13th.

It's always bad luck to get hit in the head by a flying lunchbox.

spelunk

spelunk spe·lunk [spi-luhngk] verb (used without object)

to explore caves, especially as a hobby.

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Even though I have a pretty good case of claustrophobia, I've always liked caves. My phobia isn't a full blown raging case of it, but I just don't like being in tight, cramped spaces and if I wasn't crazy when you put me in a straitjacket, I would be in a matter of a few minutes.  I've been to "civilized" caves, such as Carlsbad Caverns (and want to go back to see the bats come out at sundown) as well as the Inner Space Cavern near Georgetown, Texas (video tour), but I've also explored several lesser-known and smaller caves.

When I was in junior high, I had one of the best teachers I ever had the pleasure of knowing. He was a brilliant man, a full-blood Cherokee Indian with something like six master's degrees and hundreds and hundreds of college credits to boot. I don't really know why he deigned to teach a bunch of knotheads like us, especially since he didn't have much patience for kids, but if you showed an interest, he would go the extra mile to teach you all you could absorb.

He took us on several class trips, one of which was an extended tour of the western part of Oklahoma where he grew up - a bee farm and tombstone factory were two of the stops -  and we spent the entire morning going through a cave system on private land belonging to an old friend of his.

Looking back, it was amazing that we did that; these days schools certainly wouldn't want to be exposed to the potential liability that crawling through caves full of rattlesnakes, bats and other dangers would entail. I could write a thousand words about all the things we did on that one day, but will just relate one story in this post about that trip.

Most of the other kids went fairly far into the cave system, but another guy and I went so far back, we had to start crawling. I stopped when it got too cramped for even that position, but the other guy scooted along on his stomach for another hundred yards, only coming back when he disturbed a colony of bats. (it was too narrow for him to turn around,so he had to scoot backwards) It sends a shiver down my spine thinking about that now.

When we came out, the teacher, the two parents who took cars (my dad being one) and the rest of the class were waiting on us. We were a sight, clothes torn on the rocks, wet and dirty from our spelunking. The teacher just smiled when we told him how far back we had gone and said he had always thought about going even farther, dressing in a wetsuit and greasing himself up so he could fit through the tight spots. He said he thought he could find an underground river that fed some springs in the area.

I'm glad I did that, but wouldn't care to do it again.  I guess that's the difference between that carefree (or careless) boy I was then and the cautious old fart I am today.