Hang In There, I Haven't Forgotten About The Blog, Just Been Kind Of Busy

Sorry to disappoint anyone that stopped by looking for an account of last weekend's adventures, there weren't any, so nothing to write about. Hey, even I need a break sometimes. I've been busy the last week or so and have found little time to tickle the ivories on the old keyboard here. A close family friend is in the hospital here in town, and many of my spare moments have been spent sneaking off to visit him, as if I have any spare moments. Between that and a few other, mostly positive, developments in my everyday life I just haven't had much time to write lately.

I have been making the rounds reading everyone else's blogs since I haven't had the time or inspiration to work on my own, some fine work out there folks, even the Dixie Drifter has mostly moved past his wave of negativity and is posting some worthwhile information. I'm a little intrigued by his friend mrigmaiden that's been posting over there, this person calls Bu$hmerika a hatefest because of the plethora of photoshopped pics of Herr Bu$h, and advises the contributors to lay off the negativity, yet when I look around at Rocky Top Tennessee what do I see? Photoshopped versions of my own pics, and a flaming hatefest along with enough negativity to fill a black hole, along with a whole lot of statements about me that are simply not true. So much for southern hospitality. Bu$hmerika is a hatefest, it's put out by a bunch of people that hate Bu$h even more than I do, they don't make it out to be anything else. The Drifter obviously likes Bu$h however, which is his right, and he's now doing a darn good job of defending not only the president, but the military as well. It's a start, a retraction of a few of the lies about yours truly would be a welcome addition as well, but I'm glad to see the Drifter has found something better to do than belittle other people. I like to see both sides represented, the current one party domination going on is the root of all the political heat coming down right now, but calling people names and making up lies doesn't further anyone's cause, nor does it distribute worthwhile information, and that goes for both sides of this argument. The Drifter is at least trying to defend his point of view in a logical and thought provoking manner now, I can give him credit for that because he has a right to his own opinion whether I agree with him or not. One of my best friends even disagrees with me on the Bu$h wiretapping issue, sometimes people just need to agree to disagree if we're all going to get along. Whether you like the wiretapping or not there's one thing that's for certain, all the bitching on all the blogs in the world isn't going to change a damn thing, get over it.

I'm staying away from politics for a while, I've got bigger fish to fry.

Speaking of frying, my biodiesel guinea pig is now parked safely in the veritable mother's womb that is my yard, a safe haven for cast off automobilia of all persuasions. Soon I'll begin construction of my home biodiesel brewery, with full documentation in text and photo here of course. When I have the design perfected I intend on making the plans freely available here for anyone that would like to follow in my footsteps, as well as constructing a few extras and selling them if anybody's interested. I hope this project doesn't fall by the wayside like so many of my others have over the years, but I'm really stoked about this right now so we'll see what happens. I want to make my own fuel, and I want to show you how to do it as well. Screw foreign oil, we can grow our own, or suck it out of a barrel behind some burger joint. I'm hoping that going public with this will make me more likely to stick with it and see the whole thing through instead of losing interest in it halfway down the pipe like I usually do. I need to cure my dropitis on this one, so act interested damn it, I know most of you probably could give a rat's ass if I invented a fusion reactor that ran on dirty diapers to power my truck, but I don't know anything about fusion, I'm learning about biodiesel, and I'm going to teach all of you about it whether you like it or not so sit down and shut up and listen. There, now I'm committed, I can't back out now, who says blogging isn't therapeutic? Maybe I should do a series on my still unfinished kitchen remodel from two years ago, I'll bet my wife would even volunteer to take the pictures . . . . . ;)


P.S. - Amy says Hi.

Learn Something New Every Day

Now I'm not much for poetry, but this morning I was looking for the one and only poem that I've ever liked, The Cremation of Sam Mcgee by Robert Service, and I happened across a whole page of stuff by Francis Duggan. I know about as much about poetry as I do about nuclear physics, nothing, but I liked this one, it makes a good point. Read it. It speaks for itself. I think this guy would agree with me on a lot of things.

If Your God Is As Judgemental As You

by
Francis Duggan

Don't talk to me about a life hereafter or tell me that my soul will live again
Since i only hope that when the 'grim reaper' claims me that
memories of me with others won't remain
Just leave me rest in peace when i have had my innings or good or evil of me do not say
You bore me when you talk of god almighty and remind me of the so called judgement day.

If your god is as judgemental as you are then what hope of heaven for the likes of me
I will be condemned for to live with satan to suffer with the damned eternally
You tell me when you are in church next sunday that for my soul's redemption you will pray
Instead you should pray for your own salvation for my own sins i am prepared to pay.

If your god is as judgemental as you are then satan's hell will be a crowded place
For you believe that there's no hope of salvation for the millions that other religions embrace
If you want to help me help me with your money for i don't think that my soul you can save
And i'm prepared to face the consequences that is if there's a life beyond the grave.

You claim your god is the only true god but if your god is as judgemental as you
Then satan's hell it will be overcrowded and heaven will be for the chosen few
And if by chance there is a life hereafter and your god is the god who judges me
And your god is as judgemental as you are then i won't be expecting sympathy.

This post is dedicated to all the "Christians" out there that have never read the Bible. Too bad Duggan was probably wasting his time trying to make nonthinking people think. Sort of like herding cats.

Have a good day, from your favorite cat herder.

A Pleasant 100% Apolitical Day

As I said yesterday, I've had enough politics for now, it's playtime. I'm all done responding to trolls, bring an intelligent discussion and we'll talk. Show up drunk, babbling nonsense and insults . . . Sorry, I have a life and better things to do than sit at this computer all day trying to reason with the unreasonable.

Now, on to bigger and better things.

Saturday night, my family and I were happy to attend a performance of Tony's wife Crystal and the other dancers of Raks Amilah. If you get a chance to see one of their shows do yourself a favor and don't miss it. As I told Tony when he invited me, I'd never attended an event with women dancing that didn't involve a stage with a pole and a lot of dollar bills, this was far more classy, and lord knows a little culture wouldn't hurt this ornery hermit. Besides getting to see Crystal and her friends dance, I got to meet the amazing and adorable Miss Stella. Tony is a very fortunate man to be blessed with such a beautiful family, which I really don't understand because he is kind of homely looking after all. ;)


Ahhhhhh . . . . Wyoming's scenic Sunlight Basin at sunrise, pretty ain't it? Much too quiet though, we can fix that, or at least we could if there was any snow. There's snow behind me, lots of it. Wanna see?




The Bighorns were blessed with just enough fresh powder to make things interesting. Perhaps not enough to truly challenge my much more experienced friends and their long track mountain sleds, but my old Wildcat with its mediocre pilot (that would be me) and shorter track had its hands full much of the day. I was proud of myself overall, I only managed to get stuck once and not all that bad. I did however do a magnificent triple flip with a backwards somersault at 40 MPH when the deep snow foot swiped me off of the running board while carving a turn in some virgin powder. The snow was pretty soft so the landing wasn't bad, chasing down my sled in ass deep snow while the 7 pounds of it that went down the back of my coat made it's way lower was the part that sucked. No one saw me until I was almost back on my machine, then my 2nd best friend Brian felt obligated to come over and remind me that I was supposed to stay on the snowmobile in order to ride it. Now he tells me. Too bad he didn't get a picture, I couldn't see what happened, my helmet was full of snow after I bounced on my head the second, or possibly third time, I wasn't counting.

Now this is more like it. My amigos wanted some air pics of their sleds, so we set up a few shots on some nice jumps that we found. I'm taking my good camera next time. I bought this one so I wouldn't have to worry about ruining my good one, but the picture quality just isn't the same. It takes good video as long as the lighting is bright enough, but action shots always come out blurry. With my other camera, you'd be able to count the needles on the tree in the background.

Even the old Wildcat catches a little air. I even managed to stay on it . . . . . This time.

Dave learns to fly. Ok, he already knew how, he just didn't have any pictures to prove it. Seems to be the landings that he has hell with though. This stick was spectacular, one of those "had to be there" moments, stuffed the front half of the sled into the opposite side of a creek bank up to the windshield and launched himself over the bars. The three of us that went riding today have been best friends since High School, what are friends for if not to post your most embarrassing moments on the internet?








Brian managed to stick the Summit too on a bad landing, we each got stuck once, only I avoided photographic documentation. The benefits of having the camera safely stowed in your own pocket.

Now doesn't that look fun?

Last time I went sledding my shoulders hurt. This time I feel like I got my ass kicked in a bar fight. I'm gonna take a hot shower and go to bed.


Merry Christmas to all, and to all, a good night.

Well . . . Let's See Now . . .

Two of the junkers left today, that's three down counting the van from last week. I sold my Geo Storm, I was going to make an autocross car out of it, but I guess I need an autocross car like I need a hole in the head. I have too damn many hobbies already. ATVs, snowmobiles, dirt bikes, RC cars, RC airplanes, CB radios, this blog, wrenching on cars in my shop, gunsmithing and reloading, hunting, target shooting, fishing . . . like I said, I need another hobby like I need a hole in the head. The other car went to a worthy cause, a friend of Tony's that needed it far worse than me. I hope it treats him well, it isn't much, but it's better than nothing.

As gffirefly pointed out in comments a while back, the previous pics were nowhere near all inclusive. ;) This is the Beasty, my motorhome, and the car that Tony helped me give away to a worthy cause.

This is the one that got sold, I could've fixed it and sold it for a lot more than I did, but that would've taken time away from the rest of my hobbies. This way I've got money to buy more goodies. However . . . . .

The Dixie Drifter, having successfully turned a debate about Constitutional rights into a debate about my knowledge of electronics, has now made it perfectly clear to me that when it comes to all things electrical and political, I'm an absolute dumbass, hey, he said it so it must be true, he even has a poll up to prove it, or at least he did, his blog changes or moves daily. Since I obviously know absolutely nothing about electronics or politics I guess I can give up the RC cars, the RC planes, CB radio repair, all the nifty little tester doodads that I have for working on electronic fuel injection on cars (the Drifter loves it when I talk about technical stuff in general terms, so I won't refer to them as code scanners or VOM meters, just nifty little tester doodads). The Drifter started out in the beginning questioning my knowledge of firearms, so since he's smart enough to know what those little green telephone junction boxes along the road are called, that obviously proves that I know nothing about guns either, or at least to hear him tell it it does. Oh no, that was politics wasn't it, that's right, the phone boxes prove that I know nothing about politics. Since I obviously know nothing about electronics, guns, or politics, I can't possibly know a thing about computers or writing, so I guess the blog is history too. Sorry folks, I can't have you reading the opinions of a proven dumbass, that would be extremely irresponsible. Turning a dumb ass like me loose with a motorized vehicle would also be irresponsible I think, well, so much for the ATV, the sled, the dirt bike, and my job. Since I know absolutely nothing about all of my hobbies or my job I guess . . . . . no wait! There's one left! I can still go fishing! No more work, no more trucks, no more wrenches, no more soldering irons or multimeters, no more stacks and stacks of schematics and service manuals, just me and my boat. Sounds good to me. Unless of course someone would like to use the fact that I don't know the proper name of those nifty little phone plugger inner things on the wall to prove that I can't possibly know a thing about boats or fishing poles either? Give me a fucking break.

FYI Drifter, I've been soldering shit together to the amazement of my parents and friends since I was 5. By the time I was 10 I could build an AM radio out of just about anything, a box of parts from other things I'd taken apart, or a hunk of wire, a safety pin, a razor blade, an earphone and a piece of pencil lead if you want to keep it simple, sorry if I never cared much for telephones. I've never met a car, motorcycle, snowmobile or ATV that I couldn't fix, and that includes this "new shit" that everyone claims you can't work on yourself, as well as TV's, VCRs, tape decks, CD players, computers, toasters, coffee makers, refrigerators, cook stoves, hair dryers, and vibrating personal massagers. ;) I know plenty of tricks when it comes to repairing, accurizing, modifying, and refinishing guns, some of the latest fads, as well as proven old time methods many of which have been forgotten by all but seasoned old timers and a few young bucks smart enough to listen to them. If it exists, I've probably tore it apart and found out what made it tick. Do you know what a 2SC 2078 transistor does? And if you don't does it prove that you don't know anything about cooking? Do you know what a Colpitt's Oscillator is? And if you don't does it prove that you don't know a thing about taking care of horses? Do you know what a UEGO sensor is for? And if you don't does that prove that you know nothing whatsoever about the coefficient of friction necessary for a railroad locomotive to pull a load up a grade? I know all kinds of shit, I could go on all day. You can use your knowledge of telecommunications all you want to prove your point, it doesn't prove anything except the fact that you don't have a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of when it comes to a debate about Constitutional rights because you've been blinded by propaganda and bullshit to the point where stereotypes and generalizations have become fact in your mind.

I support the ENTIRE Constitution, not the right side, not the left side, the whole thing, and your posting of a picture of a telephone junction doesn't prove jack shit about the government or its corruption. I've tried to agree with you when possible. I've stuck up for you all over the place when you've went off topic, made blatant generalizations, and insulted people for no reason, and I'm done. If you can't even tell the difference between a debate about the Constitution and a discussion about the finer points of phone tapping, then I guess we're not on the same page and we never will be. Tell everybody you won the war if you want, you've already spoken volumes about your character, and we all heard it.

I've Had Enough Politics For Now . . . . .

I'm going snowmobiling Sunday, working on the junkpile a little more Saturday maybe, or maybe not. One, possibly two more junkers may be leaving this weekend, but another looks to be showing up, more details later as this one may be interesting. I've found a guinea pig for my biodiesel project, and I've got five gallons of oil to play with already and a line on a steady supply. I'm selling/hauling off most of my other pending projects so I can concentrate on this one, I've wanted to do the biodiesel thing for a long time and for once one of my projects may actually save me money.

I need a break from this political crap for a day or two at least, as I've said before I don't have the stones for it day after day. All the bitching in the world isn't going to change anything anyway, screw the DemocRATS, screw the RePUDlicans, I'm going sledding while it's still legal.

Here's more pics from the road, I'm getting better at the moving photography thing. Thank goodness for digital cameras, I don't think looking through a viewfinder and driving would be entirely safe. At least with digital I can tell if I just took a picture of the dash or not without waiting for the film to get developed, I don't exactly aim the thing, I just push the button and hope. The company I work for strongly frowns on talking on cell phones while driving, (so do I), I don't think they'd be very happy about their drivers cruising down the highway looking through a camera.

Enough About Me, Go Check This Out . . . .

Tony made a comment the other day about how he likes reading me when I'm "on", well today folks, Tony is the one that's "on". He's so "on" that it most definitely isn't funny. I've said before that if you happened to see Tony and I walking down the street in opposite directions, you'd probably be surprised if we passed each other without spitting, we just outwardly appear to be from that vastly different worlds, and we are from different worlds, yet somehow we both wound up on the same friggin planet now by golly. I think it's a beautiful thing in America when a hippie and a redneck can outright agree on so much, and when it comes to his latest post at Asshats, I couldn't agree with him more. I'd sit around the campfire and play guitar with this guy any day, well, I would if I could play a guitar anyway.

;)

Whew, What A Day

Well, my introductory post over at Bu$hmerika didn't exactly receive warm reviews, but nobody's calling for my ouster yet as of last time I checked so I guess I haven't done too much damage. We'll see if my login still works the next time I try to post. Turns out that emphasizing the fact that I'm not a Democrat wasn't such a popularity winning item on a left wing blog. Who'da thunk it?

I asserted that I hold no loyalty to Republicans either, but I guess nobody noticed that part, they didn't feel compelled to comment to that effect if they did anyway. Who would've thought that it would be possible for me to not be left enough for a bunch of lefties? I already know that I'm not right enough for a bunch of righties either so I guess I'm just up a creek without a paddle when it comes to politics. That's why except for an occasional foray into the realm of governance, I've mostly stayed away from the subject here.

I started doing this to share a little fun with anyone who happened along, but every time I've shot my mouth off about political issues I've found little if any support, and a whole lot of wailing and gnashing of teeth. If I wanted an argument I'd start one, and people would know my intentions to do so immediately because I'd make them quite clear. Maybe that's what I should do, start a big assed argument, I mean a real knock down drag out whizbanger. That's how I did it with Joe Visionary, and we wound up getting along in the end even if I haven't had time to reply to him in a while. Naw, I wouldn't do that at Bu$hmerika, it's Chuck's place and I have too much respect for him and his readers and contributors to do that, but I have too much respect for myself to bend my principles to fit the audience as well. I'll just have to tread a little more lightly I guess, not that I'm all that concerned with being popular but I'm not exactly trying to convince everyone to hate me either. Let the chips fall where they may, I'll still be the same person when it's over, just another working class stiff that's tired of the government screwing with me, unless the current economic trend keeps up, in that case I'll be just another unemployed stiff that's tired of the government screwing with me.

Seems that most people need something to follow, well I don't, I'm not a RePUDlican, and I'm not a DemocRAT either, given too much free reign either one would grab up all the power they could, and anyone that can't see that isn't worth debating in my opinion. Being a glutton for punishment like I am, however, I'm going to continue to try to find the common ground. I'm tired of living my life worrying about what new laws I'm going to be in danger of breaking tomorrow, and I'm sure the people on the both the left and right are too. What difference does it make which laws that we'll be worried about breaking? Why do so many people that say they want to be free, try so hard not to be? I don't understand it, and I guess I never will, but I'm going to keep trying because I'm a hard headed bastard. Gotta be good at something I guess.






I did accomplish something good today at least, my junk pile is now lighter by one POS, still a long way to go but it's a start.



The mudpit dried up enough to get in and out of the shop with something besides a hovercraft, so it was a good opportunity to snag the parts I wanted off of at least one of the junkers and send it to the great beyond. Don't want all of those factories in China to run out of second hand American steel do we? That would be a damn shame, really cut down on the cashflow of those poor, starving Chinese business owners, and after all that effort by the Republicans to send all of our manufacturing jobs over there for them. What's that? China is a communist country so the government owns the businesses? Isn't Socialism a left wing ideal? Well what do ya know about that? There I go on politics again, damn. Maybe the left and right can get along in China at least.



This is today's victim. A Plymouth Voyager minivan. During the minivan craze, which came right after the station wagon craze and right before the SUV craze, automakers in an effort to sell cars and make money, (because that's what businesses do, in a free country at least), tossed together these nifty little grocery getters out of mostly what they had laying around. In the case of the front wheel drive varieties like this one, what they had laying around was a bunch of engines and transaxles that were originally designed for much smaller and lighter front wheel drive cars. Most of these, especially the Chrysler products, were notorious for frying transmissions on a regular basis as a result of their manufacturers shortsighted haste. The gearbox in this one works fine, must've just been replaced or it's about to go I figure, but the engine has an obvious gushing oil leak and a tell tale staccato knock from the lower end when it's running. This makes it rather obvious to me that someone ran it out of oil and gutted a rod bearing. Gutted rod bearings are bad, oil is good, some people don't check their oil, they get gutted rod bearings, gutted rod bearings are bad, so people that don't check their oil are bad, people that check their oil are good. Are you seeing a pattern here?



These right here are two of the most important parts of your engine. Use them wisely, and often. If you get bored easily there's always the radiator cap that could use some attention from time to time as well. We're fighting for equality for all regular maintenance items under our hood, remember. Even if they don't pull their own weight. A good Democrat will pay absolutely equal attention to all of them. Well, some of them anyway, they'll pay special attention to the ones that look different, and a good Republican would never miss a chance to sell more oil.

If you just noticed a tell tale staccato knock from the lower end of your engine and pulled the dipstick to find an absence of life giving oil, be sure to remove the radiator cap while the engine is still hot. That way it will burn you silly, and you'll deserve it for being a dumbass. As you're nursing your blistered arm consider it your car's just revenge for your having tortured it to death, slowly and painfully, and you can't make it better by naming it an "enemy combatant" or a "poor unfortunate victim" either, only a complete replacement or a total overhaul will do. Sounds kind of like the government.

These engines were notoriously tough too, this person had to have been trying to kill it. They might as well have just shot it. Either they had too much sense to discharge a gun so recklessly, or they didn't have one because they didn't believe in them. Guess it depends on what side of the isle their favorite politicians sit on. Maybe the owner of this van didn't care about politics, so they just ran it out of oil. Engines need oil to run, but some people don't think so in spite of all the proof. Oil helps the parts in the engine to work together smoothly, but it isn't so heavy as to slow them down and keep them from doing what they need to do. The government could learn a lot from an engine.



So anyway, there was only one part that I really wanted off of this thing since it was beyond rescue without a hefty outlay of cash for a project that just wasn't likely to give back any returns whatsoever except for continuous expenses. It would be extremely irresponsible of me to teach this van to depend on handouts because it was obvious that it would never pull it's own weight, there comes a time when enough is enough, and a little "tough love" is in order. Vans can't change their ways on their own, people can.

I couldn't find anyone that wanted the transmission even though I offered it free to anybody that would come and get it, so the rear axle was my only obstacle. If you ever have any intention of building a utility trailer, two place ATV/snowmobile trailer in my case, look for a junked out Chrysler minivan. The rear axles are perfect for trailers. They're designed to mount to regular leaf springs, they use 14" tires which are commonly available used dirt cheap/free and will stand up to highway speeds far better than the tiny little 8" trailer tires that come with most light duty trailer axles, and they have much larger, stouter wheel bearings that won't melt as soon as you break 55 MPH. If a person used one of those nifty hydraulic brake actuator couplers they could even make the brakes work if they so desired. I haven't made up my mind whether or not I'll get that carried away yet, but at least it's an option. They make the trailer a lot easier to stop and save on the brakes of the tow vehicle, but they're a big hassle when you have to back up since the actuator will lock the brakes with rearward pressure on the hitch unless a lock pin is installed first. Safety is important, but not always when it hinders freedom.




These are wrenches, wrenches are slow, I want this axle out fast, I'm not going to use wrenches. Wrenches have no political opinions whatsoever. I wish I were a wrench.



This is a gas axe, called an oxy-acetylene cutting torch by purists. I'm not a purist. I call it a gas axe. Gas axes are fast. I want this axle out fast. I'm going to use the gas axe. I don't have time to argue about what to call it, because it isn't really all that important as long as it works. You can call it whatever you like, because the right to your own ideas is part of being free no matter which end of the political spectrum you fit into. I won't hate you if you call it an oxy-acetylene cutting torch, I won't hate you if you call it an orange and green thingy, I won't think that you're stupid or insignificant, but I will get pissed if you tell me I can't call it a gas axe.




These are the U-bolts that attach the axle to the springs. I could've taken the nuts off of them but they're not reusable anyway, and that would've been slow. Slow is bad in this case. I cut them with the gas axe. It cuts fast. I like cutting things fast. Fast is good in this case. Gas axes are fast. Gas axes are good.



Here's what was left of the van when I dropped it off at the junkyard. The axle is sitting next to it. I put the arrow there to point it out. If you don't know what a dipstick is for, the arrow is for you. This is what your car might look like soon. I don't need any more junk, check your oil. Buy lots of it, Republicans need to make a living too. Your engine will last longer, and run better anyway. When an engine runs better it gives off less emissions, and that's better for the environment. Smog is bad, I don't care who you voted for.



So the junkpile shrunk a little today, not as much as I would've liked, but some is better than none methinks. Now I can go snowmobiling next weekend and I won't feel so guilty for not getting any work done. With a little luck maybe the whole mess will be cleaned up by spring and I can take it easy this summer. Never know, I may have some neighbors that are lefties that would want me to get this stuff recycled, or some neighbors that are righties that would love to buy the steel and send it to China so it could be made into Diehotsooos or whatever they're called and sold to those with no eye toward quality control for an easy buck. There I go with the politics again, damn, when am I going to learn to keep my big mouth shut. Likely never, deal with it.

Looking At The World Through A Windshield

I snapped a few pics on my way home from Butte this morning. They're a little blurry since I was using my "cheap" camera that I carry in the truck, it doesn't work nearly as good as my Olympus, so I guess you get what you pay for in digital cameras just like everything else. At least it wouldn't break my heart, (or cost me as much), if I broke this one. Enjoy.

I'm Still Alive, Just Working

Here's a little something to keep you occupied until I get some time to post . . . .

Open Letter To The Weather: Some Cooperation Would Be Appreciated

Who among us has ever been faced with a dilemma? Everyone? I thought so. Well here's mine. I have a yard full of junk cars. Some run, some don't, some I have plans for, some I don't, but the fact of the matter is that a bunch, or at least a few, need to go. The main obstacle to their immediate disposal is the large pit of mud that they're parked in, but a big part of the reason that I need to get rid of them is to allow the deposition of gravel into said mudpit in order to make it less of a mudpit and more of a viable parking area for family and guests and therefore a valuable and worthwhile contributor to the happy society which is my yard, instead of the freeloading vacuous hole of a swamp in which it exists in its current incarnation. Due to the mudpit, which was just about dry as of last night but not now thanks to today's precipitation, most of these vehicular monstrosities are mired to a point of immobility, or at least to a point of making miniature replicas of the Panama Canal in an attempt to pull them free with the Beasty and a stout chain. I need to move the cars to fix the mudpit, but I can't move the cars because of the mudpit. Are you starting to see why I hate this mudpit? This mudpit has no conscience, it has no sense of self worth, it doesn't vote or pay taxes, yet it is hell bent on making my life difficult in spite of it's cultural insignificance. I'm not sure what exactly that means in the grand scheme of things but I'm sure you will draw your own conclusions regarding the implications of this situation and its effect on the greater cosmos and all of that which it encompasses.

This brings me to the other obstacle prohibiting the disposal of these fine pieces of sh . . . . Automotive history. I often bring home stuff that most people would consider "junk". Usually the reason for my pack ratism is my never ending quest to get something for nothing, or at least cheaper than everyone else, I'm not rich after all, or at least not financially. For my various transportation needs I run almost exclusively GM products. My reasons are my own but one of the major ones is the little bonus called parts interchangeability. If you are not well versed in the particulars of automotive design and manufacture, you might be surprised how many parts are a direct swap between most GM cars and trucks, and how many more parts can be modified to work on other vehicles, even some that are decades apart in date of manufacture. Most of these "treasures" were brought home in the intention of harvesting certain needed or likely to be needed in the future trinkets that would fit currently used vehicles in my fleet, and then disposing of them properly so they could be melted down and made into Toyotas for this is the way of things old and worthless. Except beer cans, they get melted down and turned into Kias.

Some were acquired with the intention of making them once again viable as a means to convey one's body from the fabled "Point A", to the ever elusive "Point B", and some were never really acquired at all, meaning that they were dropped off by someone else who was either convinced that I needed them, (usually falsely convinced since I don't even know what I need so therefore how could someone else), or who had similar visions of grandeur to my own only was not blessed with ample parking on their own property. (I used to be one of these misguided individuals myself with tidbits of automobilia scattered about the country, if you happen to have any of them parked on your property that I've forgotten about, don't tell me, just get rid of them, I don't have any more room.)

To compound my overwhelmingly rapid accumulation of vehicular worthlessness I was blessed at birth with a complete and utter lack of anything that could be remotely construed as "organizational skills". (Mental note to self: Do not pursue employment in any field that requires "organizational skills") The proper medical terminology for this horrid affliction is "dropitis". The patient commonly starts projects and may even get them well on the way to completion, then loses interest entirely or starts another project with the intention of returning to the first, but seldom does. The victim suffers with this disease for life, as with herpes, there is no cure, there is no vaccine. In severe cases involving marriage and kitchen remodeling jobs the condition can be fatal. (Mental note to self: Must finish that kitchen remodeling job that you started 3 years ago, and hide all of the ammunition for your wife's pistol, as soon as you get around to it.)

So anyway, besides the "need gravel where the junkheaps are sitting" dilemma, I have the "need to get a few of the junkheaps into the shop to snag some pieces off of them before sending them to the happy hunting ground" dilemma. The shop, however, is also full of junk that has accumulated under mysterious circumstances over the course of the 4 or so years since my last multi truck load to the dump type cleaning project creating the "need to haul a bunch of the junk out of the shop to the dump" dilemma. At this point I feel compelled to mention that the mudpit extends in front of my shop door making it extremely difficult to get anything in or out that is conveyed by any means with less tractive effort than a bulldozer, including my truck which is needed to propel the junk therein with the proper trajectory and velocity needed to reach the city dump on the other side of town, giving birth to the "can't get the truck in and out of the shop without sliding into something or getting it stuck" dilemma. I think I'll just have to resign myself to living with the mess until spring, or at least until the ground freezes again.

Are you starting to wonder why I haven't yet flung my body, with my painfully frustrated brain attached, off of a high precipice? I've started to several times but before I reach said precipice I'm always distracted by a flea market or yard sale, or well meaning friend or family member with a car in tow or an armload of cast off goodies, then I forget what it was that I set out to do in the first place, often to end up with another haul of valuable bootie only to be reminded that I have no place to put it and also of my intentions involving the precipice. At that point, the day is shot so I have no time remaining for the whole little precipice thing and therefore resign myself to clean out the shop . . . . . . . Someday. . . . . . . Remember, the day is shot at this point.

From time to time, I actually stumble across something interesting, notice I say interesting not valuable, I NEVER stumble across anything valuable. These little tidbits of memorabilia came into my possession a few days ago thanks to some friends of mine.



It seems that a particular older gentleman of their acquaintance passed from this world and left behind the usual collection of worldly goodies. This is normally the way of things involving the dead since you may have noticed that Hearses are rarely equipped with luggage racks making the act of "taking it with you" extremely difficult. His remaining relatives, having no use for these goodies, decided to set it all out in the yard and let anyone that wished to dig through and take what they liked. These friends of mine made off with an entire case, still sealed until the morons busted it open, of early 1960's era military C-Rations. The cans say that they were repacked in 1964, according to a Vietnam Vet friend of mine the damn things were barely edible when they were fresh so I doubt that they have any remaining food value, but had I gotten the opportunity to lay my greedy little fingers upon that case before they reduced it's collectible value tenfold, I might have been able to turn a tidy profit on it, I don't know what it would have been worth but there's a sucker. . . . . I mean collector, born every minute right? Wanna buy some loose cans of C-Rats?

Due to the deepening mudpit in front of my shop I decided to spend the day in its cluttered interior pursuing my most recently acquired hobby, one that as a truck driver I've taken up out of self defense: CB radio repair. After much digging and cursing I remembered that in my last shovel out the shop fest of 4 years past I tossed out my large heap of nonfunctional CB radios and therefore was not in possession of the parts necessary to construct some of the basic test equipment that I would need. I kept about a half dozen that I knew could be easily repaired. . . . . Someday, and I now have the knowledge. . . . . I think. . . . . . To repair all of them but I won't know until I make a trip to Radio Shack and haul home, you guessed it, MORE GOODIES!

This is the root of the problem, no matter what it is, if I haul it to the dump I'll end up needing it. I can kick it out of the way repeatedly for ten years but as soon as I get rid of it or sometime thereafter, I'll need it. No wonder why it's so hard for me to part with this stuff, I've been trained by years of head scratching and uttering of expletives in search of something that I know I already have, until I remember that I tossed it.

Please excuse me, I have a topographical map here someplace, if I can find it I have to make sure that there are no high precipices between here and Radio Shack, for my own safety. If I can't find it I'll need to stop at the BLM on my way to Radio Shack. Hope there isn't any yard sales or free cars along the way . . . . . . Maybe I should take the trailer just in case.

Wulfgar Needs Our Help . . .

UPDATE: Todd Scott, of Bozeman Brewing, stopped over and talked to Wulfgar and is apparently more than willing to work towards finding a mutually beneficial solution to the problem. Obviously this fellow wants to be a good neighbor and his efforts should be applauded. Rob (wulfgar) has also admitted to perhaps over reacting a little to the situation, who among us hasn't done that before? Anyway, we should all be proud of the fact that here in our state, even in Bozeman which is actually an extended suberb of LA ~sarcasm~, neighbors can still work together and get along in spite of their differences. Next time I'm in Bozeman I'll have to stop over for a brew, I might even park in Rob's driveway, just for fun. ;) Way to go gents!

This morning as I was making my normal daily rounds of the blogosphere, I happened across a troubling little tidbit over at A Chicken is Not Pillage. It seems that the city of Bozeman, in all of its infinite wisdom, has not only allowed a bar to open across the street from Mr. Wulfgar's house, but they didn't even consider whether or not the establishment had a snowball's chance in hell of providing adequate parking for its patrons. Now somebody's driveway is getting blocked, and said somebody's ass is getting frosted over the whole deal.

I don't blame him, I've been through something similar before and it sucks having to go and round up the owner of an illegally parked vehicle, the likely intoxicated owner of an illegally parked vehicle, and ask/tell/demand/threaten him/her to move the damn thing so you can get your own car in/out of your own driveway.

So anyway, go over and let him know that we feel his pain, maybe if he gives us a little more info we can flood the Bozeman paper with LTTE's or something. Bloggers are a close knit bunch, screw with us at your peril. ;)

As If Picking On The ATVs and Snowmobiles Wasn't Enough . . .

Now the nonmotorized crowd can't even get along with each other. Today's Gazoo, go check it out. Seems that the skiers can't even tolerate the snowboarders, where the hell does this stuff end? Are we all going to have to band together and buy our own little private resorts for each conceivable form of recreation to keep some group of elitist douchebags from bitching?

I will openly admit that I know little if anything about skiing, or ski resorts for that matter, but aren't most of them located on leased public land? How can this kind of elitist discrimination be allowed on public land? Is it? I'm asking, really. Are these resorts entirely private, or are my and your tax dollars funding a discrepancy involving which type of sticks people strap to their feet before sliding down a hill? What the heck is the difference? Are snowboards noisy? Do snowboards cause more environmental damage than skis? Or are the old fart elitists jealous because the kids on the snowboards look cooler and get all the chicks? I'd really like to know the justification for this one. I can accept the noise argument against my chosen form of fun as at least mildly viable, but snowboards? Come on people.

This ranks right up there with a mountain biker I talked to a few years back that said the hikers were out to get him just as bad as they were out to get me and the dirt bike I was riding. Seems like a few extremely squeaky wheels are hogging all the grease here, and they don't even like wheels, go figure.

Tolerance is the key, my friends. Freedom can only exist if we tolerate that which may annoy, but nevertheless does not hurt us. If I were ever rich I would make a point of annoying these idiots for fun. My snowboard goes up hills. I wonder what they'd have to say about that? My 4 wheeler would be a lot of fun in those sand traps on golf courses too, if I had the money for bail. ;)

Boy Do I Feel Like a Buffoon

Chuck over at B*shmerika felt compelled to include me in his latest Blog-O-Rama, and I didn't even notice it until now, two days later. If you've never checked out Chuck's blog, you owe it to yourself to do so. The big difference between B*shmerika and other blogs, (besides the totally original template) is the fact that several people contribute to it, it isn't just a one man effort, part of the reason that I didn't notice myself being mentioned until now. B*shmerika moves fast, several new posts daily, you have to be on your toes to keep up with it. Even Tony tosses up a post from time to time and it's an excellent collection of info for someone who loves the government as much as I do. ~sarcasm~

I wonder if he'll change the name to H*llarymerika after the next election? Or C*ndalezamerika maybe? Or how about this one: If Bush gets impeached, D*ckmerika! All kidding aside, it's an excellent blog, and if you don't go check it out I'll curse you, I'll hex you, your legs will grow together and your ass will sprout boils, and that's just the start.

I tend to shy away from the names and numbers, I'll admit, I don't have the time, or the stones for that matter to dig up every little detail regarding the trampling of our constitutional rights by the powers that be. Chuck and Tony, as well as Matt, and David Summerlin, and Wulfgar, do have the cajones, and the time, and I'm glad that they do. Dave Budge is another if you need further proof that our government is on crack. I don't really need further proof, I've known it for a long time, it's just damn nice to know that I won't be alone in the concentration camp when they round us all up for speaking our minds. Keep up the good work fellas, I'll keep chipping in my support at your places, poking you in the ribs if you get too partisan, and providing the comic relief and occasional flaming rant at my place. (I'm loath to contaminate others' blogs with my occasional bout of potty mouth, but this is Big Daddy's house, if you don't like it, get the $%&@ out.) ;)

Most of all, thanks for the prestigious honor Chuck, you won't regret it my friend.

I Didn't Get To Work Tonight,

so I'm sitting here drinking alcoholic beverages, visiting with family, and watching music videos on the computer. Beer got kind of gross after a while, the chicks wanted something different, so I whipped them all up some Smith and Currens. Ever had a Smith and Currens made with Frangelico? Ever had Frangelico? The best way I can describe it is a Snickers bar in a bottle. That's what it tastes like, really. My wife's cousin Susan introduced me to the stuff and I think I'm in love . . . . . with the booze. . . . . not Susan. Susan's cool but her old man is big, Army, been to "the raq", really cool guy, but you'd have to be a dumb ass to try to steal his babe. I'm happy with the babe I got. I think that Frangelico will inhabit my flask on the next snowmobile trip.

As for the music videos, my brother in law brought down a few disks that he burned. Lots of Rob Zombie and some old school rap, Snoop, Dre, that sort of thing, some Green Day, some ICP. Good stuff to have on in the background when drinking Smith and Currens made with Frangelico, and the old standby, Creme de Cacao. Kahlua works too but we didn't have any. In case you haven't guessed, I'm loaded and I'd like a nice story before I go to sleep. We listened to a lot of Evanescence too, Amy says to say "Hi".

I tried, from the age of about 16 to 25, to drink myself to death. It didn't work. I was so much better at it back then. If I drank half as much in a week now as I typically drank in a night at the age of 18 I would probably succeed in drinking myself to death in pretty short order. Getting old sucks, and I ain't even old yet, but I do leave my turn signal on sometimes, just practicing.

I need inspiration. I need to do something exciting so I'll have something worthwhile to write about. Who wants to go blow something up? Nobody? Didn't think so. I'll be ripping some cars apart and sending them to the great beyond soon, I can write about that I guess. Ever wondered what us redneck junk collectors do with all that crap we drag home? I'll show ya. Need any parts? Chances are I have them, but that's another story.

It's past my bedtime, night all.

A Friend Just Sent This To Me

And it was too funny not to share. Here's the top five reasons not to take your kids to the zoo.

Bad monkeys, somebody should spank those monkeys, and that squirrel, and those kangaroos, and definitely those deer, naughty naughty. ;)