just can't wait to get stoned again,
life i love is smoking doobies with my friends
and i can't wait to get stoned again
getting stoned again
like a band of hippies we toke down the highway
we're the best of friends
and someone keeps on yelling,
"hey, pass that joint my way, and my way"
did ya'll hear willie got busted again? a pound and a half of dope but only a misdemeanor ticket for his trouble. to add insult to injury, he had to be detained long enough to get a willie & lawdawg photo shoot going. hilarious.
the article is as liberal as anything you would expect to read in the austin chronicle. still, i think they have a valid point about the escalation of marijuana criminalization as compared to other crimes.
at cop school, i learned that they can take people to jail for possession of paraphenalia. that kind of surprised me. i also saw an episode of "COPS" where undercover officers sold nickel bags of marijuana to drive by drug addicts. once they found a buyer, they confiscated their car and took them to jail, for five dollars worth of dope. talk about putting a desperate man on the ropes.
i don't really have a point to this post other than to send you to an entertaining article about willie. that and to ask the same question the article asks, do you think possession of marijuana is a crime that should be an arrestable offense? are there amounts small enough to justify a ticket over a trip to the pokey (say for willie nelson, a pound and a half of bud and a big bag of shrooms?)
i personally have a hard time drawing comparisons between potheads and those i would consider serious criminals, enough to be jailed. what about you? wiggle room or zero tolerance, my few fine readers, where do you stand?
alex, "john furteen, for god so loved the world...he gave his one and only son...dat..whoever believes in him shall not perish but have a turtle life."
true, "pfffffff, alex, it's internal life."
hello, boys and girls
this is your peter pan read along storybook and i am your peter pan storyteller. today's story is called "shoe shine"
when you hear this sound *bing* turn the page
and now, on with our story.
in a village, by a river, lived a lady, name of chou
she didn't have too many children, in fact just two
she had a job, and some bills, and some very good friends
but what she lacked in means, she made up for in ends.
when her kids weren't around, she'd put in some work.
and when work dried up, she'd search out some perk
maybe up to all hours or down at the creek,
her life seemed quite full, but there was a leak
after four or so years at this sickening pace
she freaked out and laid down, gave up the race
the fact that she could quit gave her such a scare,
she sought out her doctor and made her aware
"you're really not functioning with all bells and beeps,
tell me something, shoe baby, how much do you sleep?"
sleep, let me think, sleep, i knew that word
but sleep was the very most rare kind of bird
the doctor scribbled a script with the greatest of care
"take one every evening and sleep like a bear"
so smart she took that advice and continues to,
and the shoe, she shines like well rested chou do
sleepy tight, sweet blown-eyes!
what makes birds electrocution proof?
whew, i survived it.
originally i thought i'd be out of town for the takeover. the boys' father surprised us and surfaced at the soccer field on saturday. took the boys, and i can't say that is at all easy since we hadn't heard a word since july. so i watched my boys drive off with the most known worthless alcoholic on the planet, and then came home to see that the blown-eyeds had once again invaded my cabin and basically treated it as their own (took an enormous plumbing-altering dump, ie., a pancho montana mass.)
i actually enjoyed Shadowscope & T1G's contributions. richard, i need to blodge more about my roots in multinational language butchering. i don't know why i never get around to it, but shoe shop and chou chope (rhymes w/elope) are both correct, and thank you for being confused. that's a fraction of what it's like to be me.
T1G, you are an artist. you have my adoration for naming that MP3 'beaver of chou' just for the occasion. it's the blog equivalent of writing a song for me, no? plus, you know i'm all about breaking the rules if it means i get to straighten you out. and the mcconaughey pics, icing. bravo, T1G, bravo!
Redneck and Tammi, on the otherhand, i'm done with you. Redneck, you didn't surprise me one bit. actually, i was done with you before you got here. but tammi, i didn't see that coming. you showed your inner bitch and i won't soon forget it. for what?? to side with a KNOWN CORNHOLING dumbfuck-eye? not right, girl. hey, i've been in enough dysfunctional relationships to see that this "redneck & tammi" thing is doomed from the start. look out, you might eventually need some of us that you threw under the bus.
anywho..i'm thankful to all of you for putting up 15 posts in a day, easily a record at the blog that barely speaks. thanks, and see you at your place.
access is now denied.
My company came through yesterday evening, and off we went. Bdub's, and to watch yet some more college football...
I just wanted to thank Richard, T1G, Tammi, and Tammi. I sent an email off to Dax since I didn't have his digits, apparently he didn't get it...
Thanks Shoe... It was fun.
Somebody had to post boobies though... so, here you go, obligatory boobies...
PS: This blog will self destruct if you don't disable my account sugar britches... you know what to do....
Two weeks ago today, in Georgia, after the game, my side started shakin'. I'd missed a call. I got somewhere a little quieter, but really didn't need to, 'cause that room was pretty danged quiet anyway. I dialed voicemail, and received the following voicemail from my buddy in Houston.
Hey Bryan, It's Marcus, well congratulations on the game... 24-7, that's a hard pill to swallow. Anyway congratulations, say hello to Dash and Eric and all of them and give Chou a kiss for me. See you later.
Now, that was a seemingly honorable voicemail, and a recognition of the fact that the best team won that night. A show of class like I've come to know Marcus to put on. What got me... was the MarcusZuma's revenge phrase in there... Can you spot it?
No? It's the "Give Chou a kiss for me" phrase... I love you man, but I'll be damned if I'm gonna put my face that close to the face of a Horn lover such as Chou right after my team just put it to hers. I ain't as dumb as I look brother... Kiss her yourself, you're closer. I think she and I just need a little time apart before we get all kissy faced... ;)
I must say thanks to our gracious host for actually letting us trash this place today. I haven't had this much fun while I am actually at work (that is my alibi) and thus unable to actually post these at this time. If you actually followed that, you are a damn site smarter than I am.
Anyway, I must be a real dumbass or something. I got Chou = Shoe quite awhile back. I am smart like that. But for some reason my little grey cells didn't clue me in to the rest for awhile. Actually, it was my wife that clued me in. I mentioned something about vandalizing visiting her site the other day and mentioned Chou Chope with a long O (elope, etc...) and of course my wife who holds all of the useless knowledge (and some useful tidbits as well) says "No, not CHOPE, SHOP dumbass". Actually I don't know if she called me that or not, that part could have been in my head, as it should have been.
I probably could have spent the day badmouthing Texas, as I am sure 'neck is gonna do (it's Friday evening right now) but since my wife grew up there she would probably beat the bejesus out of me if there is still any left when Shoe gets done. Besides, I am sure that my form of abuse heaping is just as effective :) That's OK, next time I go outta town, I'll give you the keys to my place for a couple of days, if you can stand the stench of rotting flesh and pornography.
Alas, this will probably be my last post of the day over here unless I can think of anything more juvenile to post. L8r dudes.
She did call from the bar though, had to go pick her up. Took forever to find her, cause she was praying to the porcelain goddess. Man, she was a mess, as you can see from the photo in the extended entry.
...she was chasing after this thing.
So, it's time for a fight song...
And some barbeque...
Just because she asked nicely, these are for Agent Bedhead.
In the confusion following the slaughter, 'Thew thinks he's at a concert.
"FUCKIN' SLIPKNOT RULES, MAN!!!"
Alright, one more...
The Innocent T1G
Well, as one who has lost her blog on a football bet, I can say - Shoe - I feel your pain girlfriend.
HOWEVER - that will not stop me from contributing to the hoopla.
So - in the effort to follow the rules, yet still play along, I share this little video with you. I know, it's cruel to make her relive that moment in time, but Hey - we grow from pain. Plus - I'm just lovin' the fact it was my beloved Irish that "dropped the ball".
Signed... Your pal Tammi
Burnt Orange. As in "Burned to the Ground" (no offense to Dash and Chrissy) Orange.
Shoe darlin, I love ya, but I just gotta say, What were you thinking, making that bet with 'Neck? After his trashing of another blog last January, you'd have thought you would have learned. And while I hate to say it, I had to pull for 'Neck on this one, dear. If Texas would have beaten the Buckeyes, a bet later in the season would have meant less. Course, ND lost, so that kinda ruined that. Touchdown Jesus? My. Ass. Michigan looked like they beat up a kindergardener for his crayons.
A bet with 'Neck now looks pointless. Well... it will still be a fun bet, but the national title being on the line is not very likely. Nope. Pretty much done. ND is sucking wind, and Ohio is leaving us in the dust. Just sayin.
You wouldn't happen to be a Cowboys fan, would you darlin? Because you know... the Bucs play the Cowboys on Thanksgiving this year. WooHoo!!! My Bucs will be feasting on Dallas turkey. Maybe we could swing some kind of bet.
Anyway. I hope the guys are nice to you, and don't leave your blog in shambles. That would suck, girlfriend. Well, not suck girlfriend but... you know what I meant.
I realize the rules have been set, but then again... ain't rules made to be broken? Shoe says, "No Pron," you've got to push it just a little. It's all about the love, or the lovin'. Hey, if I didn't love ya, Shoe, I wouldn't be here.
Anyway, thanks to Shoe making a very not so wise bet with an Ohio resident, you folks get a gratuitous beaver shot. (I'm sure you'll get there, but check out the way she takes that wood in her mouth. Whoa!!!) She's even got her own song...
Scarlet and Grey... vs Burnt Orange. That last one seems like an appropriate color name. The series is tied at 1-1, but we(Scarlet and Grey) still have scoreboard baby... A 3 point loss vs a 17 point loss net's us 14 up on the points factor. Were it not for a certain tight end that dropped a ball in the end zone last year in Columbus, the series could b 2-0 Buckeyes... Oh well Shoulda, Coulda, Woulda, right "Hook 'em Hornies"?
It is all about the bottom line ain't it Chou? ;)
...as those who were in Helen already know.
The real reason that we are hanging around today is that she has a new job but didn't want to tell you. Check it out.
Since Shoe is going to be so very busy today, she has
been forced invited a couple of other scumbags to help out. Something to do with having lost a bet. Hell, I don't know. We showed up here early, but hell, she was already getting started. Just check this out.
Damn girl, dontcha think it's kind of early for that stuff? Of course, when asked, I was told it was new. "Beer flavored coffee you buckeyed asshole". Whatever. I don't live in Ohio anyway, thank god.
She did say something about correcting the error of her ways though. Something about an extended trip up to Columbus.
Mayhap I'll see some of yall later today. If I didn't have to work today I would spend the entire day finding
pr0n entertaining stuff to post, but since I am kind of limited on time today, I will just diddle entertain myself at your expense instead.
woe is me, fine frillios. what a freaking day. had lunch with two of my favorite townies. we dined beside the guadalupe river, a sunny perfect day. but i knew, something was wrong. deep down, i knew not to enjoy it too much. despite the blaring song of the bluebirds and the orgasmic pleasure of the company, i knew the man was still trying to knock me down, and i wasn't going to be caught blithely smiling as he stuck it to me.
a certain tech stock that's meaningful to me took a 12% jump in the earliest part of the trading day. that's how our previously unassaulting conversation got on the wrong track. i'm a fucking stockbroker, i know better!! do not attempt any rational business conversation where they serve countryfried chicken and cream gravy. it pollutes the mind and the thighs equally, fa reals.
so like a blow out, up pops big oil. not just big oil, but the biggest. my numero uno position, yo. the question is posed, "why do you think gas prices are dropping?" i won't bore you with my response, it was my run of the mill "rah rah capitalism" spiel. i was in the home stretch, and the crowd was cheering me on, and just as the smile was sneaking across my face, out came the grim reaper to plant the sickle of stunned expression right between my brows.
now i can't say this in any artistic way. i really try hard here, try to write for your entertainment and pleasure, but i don't do whackjob. i can't translate it, or pretty it up. all i can do is repeat here as i remember it being communicated to me, communicated by one i truly respect, one of the sweetest men i know.
he said there were probably ten of em, or so. powerful men, you know, them. they were just bringing down gas prices for a month or two, seeing as they really like what they've been getting. and with the election coming, they figure they'll have everybody gassing up and smiling, "woohoo, gasoline is only 2.50 a gallon!! long live george bush!!" and vote republican. and then, you know, get more of these good times they've been getting.
supply and demand, not an issue. normal price volatility of a commodity, horse-fucking madness. record corporate profits, who cares? it's all up to ten or so guys, republicans, no less. and they decide it all.
thank goodness we had lunch so i could ponder the sheer worthlessness of my existence for the rest of the afternoon. what was i doing again? why?
please, if you read this theory and it kind of made sense to you, drop me a comment and then seek a qualified mental health provider and ask for the full treatment. this simply defies even the most common sense. truly it does.
shout outs to all the fine blown-eyeds this day.
sorry no helen recap or updated links as yet, life is way in the way. but i wanted ya'll to know that i'm fine.
i did lose a bet to RedNeck that cost me the keys to my site tomorrow. we have a pron free agreement, but i told him anything else goes. i'm sorry for what you might have to deal with here over the weekend.
and because there is no way i'm going to go down without some final smack talk, remember this, redneck, even winning the national title EVERY YEAR wouldn't be enough to justify living in ohio. FUCK THE BUCKEYES!!
hopefully, i'll get to recap and blogroll tonight. be well, blown-eyeds.
Hopeless is the only word that comes to mind when I look back five years ago. Like many of you, probably, I didn't know anyone personally that was lost that day. Due to my line of work, I viewed the initial attacks as a direct assault on our way of life, namely capitalism. Afterall, the best of the business world worked in those towers and I didn't need to know them personally to deeply feel the loss.
At least, that's what I thought until I learned about Valerie. Valerie was the oldest of four kids and the daughter of a military dad who was often away. She was an emergency placement foster mom and by the time she was 24, she was already married with two children. She thrived as a foster mom, having 8 teenage foster sons when her three year old daughter came along.
She and her first husband eventually divorced over her desire to work outside the home. Even so, Valerie kept up the fight to adopt her third child and eventually won as a single legal parent.
It was this sweet third child that said this about her mom, "She continued bringing light into battered and neglected children's lives my whole life. Saving many of us from a future that could have been bleak. She believed that exposure to knowledge and ability would change what someone could be, not skin color or money."
Valerie put all of her children in Montessori School at early ages, an early indicator of how important children's independence and education was to her. I'm sure you can imagine how tight money must have been for a single mom in the seventies with three children and multiple foster children at any given time. Valerie's children learned to sew their own clothes, bake bread and make home repairs, whatever it took. She would call them after school and get them to start dinner. As her daughter said, "Yes, we were latch key kids, but we were self-sufficient."
Valerie also believed that women were equal to or more capable than men. It bothered her that her secretaries thought that was all that they could do. So she lost a lot of secretaries. Many of them took Valerie's advice, left to go back to school, demanded better jobs and proved their intelligence. This was kind of an unknown side of Valerie, one her family wouldn't know until she was gone, when thankful women came out of the woodwork to share what an impact Valerie had on their lives.
Valerie's dream was to own a farm. By the time 9/11 rolled around, she had sold her brownstone in Hoboken and bought property in Upstate New York. While she stayed with her sister during the week for work, her weekends were devoted to family life on the farm. The morning of the tragedy, she had just hung up with her husband after discussing the chores around the farm. She was in great spirits and her family loves that her last thoughts were likely of her dream being realized.
Since the first plane hit right at her floor, she hopefully never knew what happened or suffered.
I'm so thankful to the 2996 project for bringing Valerie Joan Hanna into my life. I'm so thankful to Valerie's daughter Denene for sharing all of this with me. And finally, I'm thankful to live in the only country on the planet that produces people like Valerie and all those who make it possible for our freedom to endure.
Valerie Joan Hanna
Sept 6, 1944 - Sept 11, 2001
as a student of advertising, i was really suprised to see this. granted, they were in my baby book. while perhaps the intention was only to light a celebratory "it's a girl" cigar, it still isn't right. a hospital advertising on matches? even in the last thirty-some-odd years? my how times have changed.
in case i forget, three day weekends are the shit. it's so nice chilly willin with the kids. we went swimming yesterday, but it was cold. ended up pouring rain in the late night.
got some great bubble bath pics. here, bubble baths aren't the relaxing methodic events you might imagine. they are tortuous, loud, squealing, pant soaking and floor flooding events. here, i'll try to download one.
oh, but they are happy, and clean. and it is with same great bubble bath vigor that i attempt to pack all the long, lazy weekend's duties into a single day.