Wednesday’s post was fairly cathartic for me, as tidying up either around your physical home or your virtual home is never a bad thing. I would like to also add that if my inbox were a garage, with the exception of the fact that in the corner there is a blow up doll wearing a chicken bucket on her head, it would now look something like this;
I figure there is no harm in keeping the good times rolling, as I still have a few more odds and ends to get through for your edification.
Kevin sent on the following shot back a few months ago, so like the rest of my dirty laundry, I will go ahead and hang it out now;
Of course being the curious George that I am, I had to investigate just to see if they were for real, and was dismayed to find that there was no such site. Truth be told, it gave me a glimmer of hope as this image reappeared in my inbox just days after I watched the following clip that I found here;
As I’ve said before, if God hate fags, I suspect he hates a whole bunch of other stuff as well.. Like pants, for example.. or in the case of the Westboro Baptist Church, crazy pants.
I mean to tell you.. I thought those people had a screw loose before, but after watching that documentary I am of the opinion that all of their screws fell out long ago.
Getting riled up and combating their insanity with anger I just don’t think would do the trick, and I’ve long contended that I would like to stand shoulder to shoulder with them holding an array of my own signs exclaiming all of the things that I think God hates as well;
Or like this similarly minded individual has concluded;
You can’t combat crazy and hatred with crazy and hatred, but against humor, it stands no chance.
So what else have we got here? Ah yes. Tina B also sent me the following clip some time ago. I’ve seen bits and pieces about Stephen Wiltshire over the years, and am always in utter astonishment at his genius;
This makes an especially profound impact on me as I recently tried my own hand at Stephen’s craft. I thought it best to start on a much smaller scale and simply begin by looking at and then memorizing a Rubik’s Cube;
I feel as though I may have a ways to go yet.
In bike related news, I went against my doctor’s best wishes on Thursday and ventured out into the world atop a bicycle for the first time since my wrist bending accident in early December;
Though I can’t say that my performance was a brilliant one, I’d be lying if I said the views were not;
Certainly the time I’ve spent on the rollers as well as trail running didn’t hurt my physical abilities, but after having spent so much time in my garage riding in place, simply being outside made me feel like a superhero and cleared the cobwebs out in short order.
I kept in mind that if I were to experience another sort of hand trauma similar to that of the initial accident, the doctors would probably opt to simply cut me off at the elbow, so like the hacky sackers on the Berkeley campus, I kept it mellow.
Regardless, it was good enough for me, and I foresee a little bit more of where that came from in the coming weeks.
Further more, just before I got hurt I was excited about taking a trip into the woods with my folding saw and freeing up some trails from a tangle of downed trees. With any luck that trip might come to fruition sooner than later.
Anyone who wants to tag along is certainly invited to contact me.
Now as I’m sure you all are aware, Haiti recently suffered a devastating blow in the form an earth shattering quake, due to what the captain of crazy pants, Pat Robertson, (shown here throwing the horns and wearing his Rock Racing button, cause that’s what they do), claims was a pact with the devil.
Anyhow, my homie Gemma wrote in and simply asked me to direct folks to Hope For Haiti.
She is a bit of a do gooder herself and having long been involved with groups such as this, has helped to effect positive change from organizing delivery of aide for orphans in Haiti to retaining land rights for native tribes in the Amazon.
I figured for all of the good she’s done, posting that link for her was the least I could do.
Now then, back to the mail bag. Occasionally I wonder what you would get if you crossed The Hellacopters, System of a Down, Iron Butterfly, Jethro Tull, Jack Black and a shit ton of mescaline. Thanks to KB, the answer has come in the form of this clip of Focus;
You can bet that after this performance, they all retired to their hammocks to sleep it off.
Finally from Karl comes this;
This is a picture my Sister-in law took. Randall was demonstrating his impressive high-kick, and the rest was an accidental timing win.
I just thought you might appreciate it.”
Indeed I do Karl, indeed I do.
That’s pretty much from this end. As always, I hope that you all have fantastic weekends filled with the regular assortment of high times, high kicks and hijinx.
I’ll catch you all again on the business end of the week.
Unless of course something better comes along, in which case I’ll see you in Westboro, or perhaps, the Ark.