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'til then, 'til then, 'til then, I am as I ever was and ever was and ever shall be, yours, yours, yours, yours, yours.Probably not you who are reading this, unless I'm very clever.
Nice to Meade getting some red highlights....but less gel next time, m'kay? It's lookin' inflexible enough to get tenure...
You see the stuff about Zero telling the President of Colombia he's scouting vaca spots for him and Moochelle and the shots of the Hildabeast partyin' like it was 1999 and you wonder if they've been told, "Get packed now. It's over", that the real polls are really that bad.It's like they just don't care anymore. They're going to have as much fun on our nickel as they can between now and January.One of the Demo talking heads on Fox was trying to act outraged about the story of the Romster and his dog and it was obvious even he thought it was a joke.WV "quoquid" Somebody in "Moby Dick".
The least with two backs' idea of social intercourse.
But at the back to front cafe, it's entirely a different matter.
We were talking pets and hang gliding on the puppy eating post, which was a great time by the way. I posted a video of an actual flying dog over there, which is what people are now teaching their dogs to do to escape the ravenous Obama.I really like this commercial made by some friends in my hang gliding club out here on some hills in southern California. It's a lottery commercial which are often some of the best commercials next to Geico's. Everyone should fly at least once
Amazing commercial! One of those birds resembled Chickenlittle!
I have no idea how they landed connected with that Emu. That was risky. I need to ask them. The one person shown is the guy who taught me to fly. A wonderful guy and great pilot. The hills are beautiful like that in the late summer. I think it's in Santa Barbara, CA, near the homes of both Ronald Reagan and Michael Jackson...neighbors.
Are those hills ever green? Beautiful nonetheless. Do people glide over the ocean?Don't Emu's have sharp claws, ouch.
The guy with the patches reminds me of VFW people. I went to a VFW once to catch up with my dad. I notice a really super shiny El Dorado parked near the front so I parked elsewhere to avoid the shiny car. Dad was there talking to a Mexican guy who took a great deal of pride in his car, a Cadillac. My dad is really into cars but not prestige cars. It's his hobby. One more car and he has to buy a dealer's license. That goes on each year. So Dad is a car guy. I'm not. He's disappointed in that but learned to accept my shortcomings. The Cadillac guy bugged me. So I said, "Oh, is that your El Doro Doo? " Like it was a sincere question. Which cracked up my Dad who enjoyed hearing the guy's car sissified, but pissed off the guy a lot worse than I estimated and he blew up on me in defense of his car.
...you don't have to get along.Oh, blah, blah. The hell we don't!
You see the stuff about Zero telling the President of Colombia he's scouting vaca spots for him and MoochelleObama's pattern, all the way back from his early days in Chicago politics, is to trade access for money.I bet he's doing the same thing with foreign nationals now. A few billion dollar favors now for a post at the UN or somesuch.
Yes, Allie. They are green in spring till mid summer. In spring the hills are often covered in flowers. It's prime wine country. Great for a weekend of driving, wining and dining.We rarely fly over the ocean since there is no lift in the air there. Only for short excursions at safe altitude. If you land in the water you're done. You are harnessed in and will sink, unable to swim, if you can't cut yourself loose in time.
It was an entertaining day at Althouse. Clever flock of commenters around here. Maybe that was true of the whole blogosphere today, at least on the right anyway.
Didn't a lobbyist go to jail over the selling of access during the Bush administration.. it generated so much press Kevin Spacey played disgraced Jack Abramoff in a major motion picture.I mean that shit storm was so intense it could be seen from the moon.Now there is a Kennedy.. a democrat blue blood.. not a republican hack.. saying that there is a quid pro quo in this White House.. Obama donors get access.. and there is hardly a peep from the mayor media outlets.Pogo had it right the other day.. Disheartening I think he said.
Speaking of dogs...story time!Friend of mine runs a string of beagles for rabbit hunting. He always has at least 5 dogs in his possession at any time, and usually more. he prefers the miniature beagles that stand about 12-14 inches at the shoulder.One December day we loaded up the truck and went to his place for some rabbit hunting. Some friends came along only the didn't want to rabbit hunt, they wanted to quail hunt, so they had three spaniels with them.The beagle owner, John, decides that the best place for everyone is located on some state ground only accessible by boat, so we drive down to the lake, and load up the boat, with dogs, people, guns, clothes, food, and drinks. Quite a load indeed. There were me, my dad, John, his girlfriend, another friend, and the 2 bird hunters. There were 7 beagles, and the 3 spaniels. We were all bundled up because it's early in the morning on the 28th of December.So we launch, and motor up the lake to where it turns into a river, then go a little further. And it's colder than a well diggers ass, and the dogs are all trying to get their noses in the wind like they do, and then they turn to face us, and sneeze dog snot on us.We get near the hunting spot so we start approaching the bank, but its tree lined out into the water so we're trying to squeeze in between the trees, and the dogs are getting excited. Then 1 of the beagles jumps into the river to swim to shore. Like a shot, every other dog decides to join the first, so before we can even grab a collar they're all in the water. Like a canine storming of Normandy, the reached the shore, barking and yipping, and looking back at us like "What's taking so long?"Much to the dogs chagrin it takes us humans about 5 minutes to tie up, and get everyone off the boat. Meanwhile the beagles had started working and had found the first scent and run off, baying at the tops of their lungs.We quickly split up, rabbit hunters, haw, and bird hunters, gee. If you don't know gee or haw, ask a county boy, 'cause you ain't one.Johns best dog is also his oldest, Brown. Brown was a white with liver colored blotches on her, but what made her stand out were 3 things. A remarkable nose, intelligence, and a deep bass voice unlike any other beagle I ever heard. More like a big coon dog.So the pups would run around, yipping, sniffing, tails going 90 miles an hour while Brown would stand by John. When the pups jumped a rabbit they'd take off, bellowing and barking enough to beat the band. And then Brown would join in.You could watch them go through the hills, a wild pack of pups, running full bore, and Brown ambling along, 40,50 yards behind them. And when the rabbit would jink, the pups would keep running in a straight line, but ol' Brown, who couldn't see worth squat, had that nose on the ground, following like a heat seeking missile. Eventually, the pups would raise their heads, listening for Brown. If she wasn't behind them, they would all come tumbling back to where she was, and take up the chase again. This would happen time after time.
But this story isn't about Brown, nor her son Squeek, who had the highest pitch I ever heard on a dog before, hence the name. He sounded like a squeeking wheel. No, this story is about Little.Little was the littlest miniature beagle I ever saw (you might see a pattern here). He was so little, that one time he actually caught a rabbit and it dragged him off. We had to chase down the rabbit and beat it to get the dog back(this actually happened).Anyway, we were hunting, and it was early afternoon, and the temperature was starting to rise, probably in the low 40's. We were kinda' spread out because we had jumped so many rabbits that the pups had split into 2 groups, running different rabbits. Brown, because of her age, would only run every other rabbit. She would just stand by John the rest of the time, so the pups were going everywhere. Because of his voice you could hear Squeek clear on the other side of the hill with one group of dogs. My dad had just killed the rabbit Little and his group had been chasing. So we were field dressing it, and then chatting, and John hollered over to my dad,"Jerry, you know where Little is?" "Yeah John," my dad replied "I hear him on the next hillside." "We better go get 'em" said John. So we took 2 steps, and dad hollered over to John, "No he ain't, he's right here!" Here being inside a rabbit hole.Little was so little he would chase rabbits down rabbit holes which in and of itself isn't a bad thing, but this time it was. It was very bad. The rabbit hole had 2 exits, it entered 1 hole and popped out the other end, and kept on going. Little, while little enough, wasn't a little as a rabbit, and had gotten stuck, in the rabbit hole. We could see his nose, inside the rabbit hole, about 2 feet from the exit itself.Little could see us as well, and wasn't about to back up. So we spent 2 hours digging Little out of the rabbit hole with our pocket knives. By then all the other dogs had gathered round wanting to know why we weren't shooting them damn rabbits they kept chasing for us.We got him out finally,he and us covered in mud. Johns girlfriend picked him up and cuddled him for a bit, and then we went back at it.Late in the afternoon, we jumped up another rabbit, and this one took the dogs on a merry run. Through hills, and valleys, creeks, and fields. We finally caught site of the whole mass when they took off through a field with some horses in it. The rabbit, dodging and dashing, saw the horses, and ran right at them, eventually running straight between the front legs of one of the horses. The horse looked between his legs to see the rabbit skipping off into the distance, and he raised his head up, and saw...A mass of tumbling, barking, yipping, howling, stumbling, squeeking, pack of beagles...lead by Little.And Little dashed through the horses front legs...or at least he tried to. The horse raised up his hoof and went "SPLAT" on top of Little, then walked off.Johns girlfriend gave a cry, and rushed down to Little, and scooped the little guy up. Luckily, he wasn't dead, just very,very traumatized. Johns girlfriend carried Little the rest of the day, and he just shivered and ducked his head.Little survived that day, and he hunts still. Brown unfortunately, had to give up hunting 2 years later, and I think she died of a broken heart. The last year John hunted her, she would just walk beside him, barking in that magnificent voice of hers. Too blind to see beyond a few feet, she still had the best nose of them all. Squeek had some adventures but this is enough for a little dog lover tonight.
The shrunken head is a great injustice to Bev Perdu's head but I think I like it better.Saw the source pic on Hot Air. I'm fairly sure they select their pics for the damage they imagine their selection makes. Sometimes. Notice they make a pick and stick with it.
Retired servicemen have the coolest jackets/hats.The modern everyman wears geeky bike helmets. 'Cuz thats what we are supposed to wear, for the children, of course.Bike helmets didn't exist when I was a kid. Peanut allergies didn't either, at least I don't remember anyone that had one.Or protests. That was something hippies did, probably out of boredom, or because it what fashionable to rail against the 'man'.Now that our hipsters are the 'man', I guess promoting themselves within the framework of government is perfectly acceptable.
more thoughts on Ann Romney, from C.S. Lewis:"The homemaker has the ultimate career. All other careers exist for one purpose only - and that is to support the ultimate career."
Saint CroixAnn Romney has nothing she needs to defend.Those that strain to find fault are the ones that have the burden of explaining their mindset. Not an easy task at all.Its the economy.
I lived in the air until 1971 when I noticed that I liked long distance bike riding better than flying.A reversal of what you'd expect as a kid.
Confession: I was a pet agnostic.I had no particular feelings for animals at all, and never understood why people liked dogs all that much, until rhhardin posted quotes from Vicki Hearne, and so led me to read a few of her books.Now I know, and I sure missed a lot for being so obtuse.I am humbled each day here by all the knowledge held by those posting here. Each day I discover one more thing I knew nothing about, or that what I knew was entirely wrong.
Everyone's talking about the space shuttle flying to Dulles airport atop a 747, but nobody's asking how the darn thing landed on that plane in the first place. That's some good piloting!
"Bob Ellison said...Everyone's talking about the space shuttle flying to Dulles airport atop a 747, but nobody's asking how the darn thing landed on that plane in the first place. That's some good piloting!"My son brought that up (the 747 thing)...I was confused. It's not new.
My wife brought it up but forgot to mention it was piggy-backing. So I had this image of the shuttle circling Dulles in a holding pattern.
But a 747 is only about 230 feet long! You gotta get over the tail and can't overshoot the nose! NASA must be feeding dog meat to its astronauts!
Everyone's talking about the space shuttle flying to Dulles airport atop a 747,How can you be sure that the 747 wasn't being carried under the space shuttle?
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