That's going over real well. And since I'm home babysitting….There's a new kid in town classical crossover David Garrett. He crosses over from classical violinist to rock music. While Bramwell Tovey says its nonsense, 28 year old David Garrett says different and is packing in the young-ins with his new CD rock symphonies. Now for the past year we've done nothing but look at tits and ass. I'm not complaining mind you and not that I would expect any feed back from the peanut gallery but it would be nice to open the page and see some real eye candy.
Hell, MeL, that boy is flipping off the whirled.
You have to figure, ash, that any organization that demands that their point people have to be married, heart & soul, to a dead man, it's going to find itself it the deep caca.Just by the nature of the people that would agree to submit to such a lifestyle, as a career choice.Even so, all Christians, not even all Catholics stand indicted by the actions of those few.Unlike the situation where all of America stands by as 1.3 million unborn children are slaughtered, while we all look the other way.It is a shame, really, that the organization that stands most firmly against such behavior finds itself morally compromised, by the pedophiles in their midst.
I know I pick the winners don't I?
Yeah ED, we are all sullied by the sins of our brothers being only 6 degrees or so separated. But, hey, those Muzzies and Catholics sure are something eh?
...and then again there is the BORN AGAIN:Gag Reflex said:"I am a follower of Jesus and believe the Bible is God Breathed and true"hmmm, the Bible is...the Koran is...Tweedledee and Tweedledum!
I met the most remarkable woman today, one Miss Marion Crumb. Hello this is my dad he wanted to see the stables. Good day to you sir. Sitting in a brand new F-250, her hair a little whiting. Let's go back to the house I'll serve some tea. Alrighty! Up the steps she goes, my eye on her very tightly bounded backside. bump bump bump bump My that's good, what's in it. A little mint and four drops of huckleberry. An excellent formula, say I. Your dotter is best in class. I hear you're a reall stern diciplinarian. I am, I make sign a form? And if they're there late they have run the track three times? Two, or clean the barn or lead calisthenics. Your dotter's been late once, and lead the workout. Yes but I heard if you don't get all the shit off the horses feet and you fail your exam you got to put the horse shit in your own shoes for the day? Yes, that too. You look like a nice young man with a wonderful daughter how old are you? 42. You don't look a day older. How old are you may I ask? Somewhere between 70 and 80, some nearer80. Really, you don't look 40, if a day. con't need to piss
I keep in shape. (goddamn she's got firm tits, I'm thinking) The horses keep me in shape, I don't lift weights or anything, don't exercise, we went on a six hour ride yesterday. Around here? No (points to another fancy pickup with Hilton Hotel Horse Trailer) Up in the mountains, she says. You don't wear make up either. Hell no, all the horses need is a kind loving hand, a slow hand. And those are no city boots you're wearing. Hell, no, I suppose your daughter has some city boots. I have some, dotter says. I want some spurs, she says. You get better, I'll let you have some. You can use spurs on more than horses. I burst out laughing. I'd noticed a bottle of some calcium something pills on the kitchen counter. (To keep the bones firm, when the men mount her, I'm thinking) Well you have a nice place here. (Indeed she does, whether she knows it or not. worth three or four million out there between Dalton Gardens and Hayden con't
I've kept it up. I was born on an Oregon ranch, 1100 acres, wheat and cattle. Then moved here with Carl. When Carl died, I got life insurance, and made it grow. Dad wants to come to the class on Thursday. He is welcome, for sure. ( I'm thinking I got to get up here on Wednesday if I could only puree a little younger city into her perfect rural, I'd damn well have something perfectly worth worth it) She shows us around, and off we go.
Dotter says " respect, balance, rhythm" For rhythm you hold the reins like ice cream cones and do a frisbee arm for rhythm. Her horse is now "Shadow" a young mare, wickedly unpredictable, like many younger mares. You don't stop to shit, the dotter says. She's even cleaned the horse's backdoor. And fear or anxiety is contagious to the horse. Stay calm. There's a hoof disease called thrush hence all the cleaning of the hoves. When she lead the exercises she had to do the plank, and stomach crunches too.----The Smashing Pumpkins concert seemed smashing. The only person from the original band is a Billy Corgan? all the rest is new. There was crowd surfing, whatever that is, and mashing, or mushing or moshing, whatever that is. Son got hit on by a fag. The dialogue reminded me of when Unca Jerry got hit on back at Columbia University circa 1963 or something at a seminar, back when Columbia was still worse a shit. Unca Jerry, before the urinal, honk in hand, and this guy comes up, says, "Could be?"Unca Jerry, never slow with a reply, says"Could be, but it isn't."I always remember that, told around the campfire, when I think of fags hitting.That's my report.
Pretty cool, eh?
Warning: Parental Advisory--Rodeo Blues
E-Mail From Matg'nite, I'm all trotted out, can't even whinney, I'm in the barn.
Let me see if I can lower the discourse a level."Could be, but it isn't."I had no idea that fags were that subtle.I guess I still have that image stuck in my mind of the 12-inch penis strapped to the midsection of the gay parade walker ( courtesy of Linear I think).
Okay, it's been a hell of a week; a little Chuckle woul be nice.
Actually, it's been a not bad week if you have faith in Kudlow's thesis that the Tea Party political disruptions will be bullish for the markets. I'm fully invested short term but long term remains a huge cipher.Just when things get exciting, I'll have one foot in the grave.
There's nothing like a longish night drive.Almost an hour and a half longer than it should have been because your mind is wandering and you miss your exit and the nice young man at Sheetz, sincerely endeavoring to do you a favor, unintentionally gives you what are essentially directions for The Long Way Home.There's something about being in a state of transit, especially at night. Airplanes are a state of suspended animation. And that can be enjoyable in its own way.In your car, you are in control. And if you're alone, the choice of music is all yours.And it's cold up here.
No vacant motels in Ellenberg, she says, from the KFC, exhausted, damn near weeping, 10pm. She had gone to Seattle with the son to buy a pickup, which they did.She was supposed to go to Bellingham to see a friend, cancelled when some relatives showed up there.Bobhero calls ahead and scores a motel in Moses Lake, the next big town.She calls back, all sweetness and light, when she gets there, 12pm.She can't stand to drive at night.All ends well.
'Course, there were also plenty of 'fuck', 'what the fuck', 'where the fuck does this go', in the latter portion of the trip.But I was only talking to myself.
It's raining out outside. Keeps the coyotes quiet. The remaining garbanzo beans out in the field--this does it for them. Too much wet.They'll dry and shatter for sure, with the next warm weather, the beans falling to the ground.That's the thing with garbanzo beans here--takes to long to ripen.We need one more crop selection, but not one so risky.Back to bed, the rain sounds nice---- unless you're a garbanzo farmer.
"It's raining out outside."That's usually where it does.
Why is the Macondo well being sealed? It was producing 35k-60k gallons per day.
American Muslim summit is being planned. Are they being radicalized by perceived bigotry?
Not always. In fact it always rains in the upstairs bathroom when it rains outside, I haven't got that little leak fixed yet. Been using a bucket.