Broadening Our Horizons LXII: In Which We Get Religion, Sorta

Today's beer... "brewed with care and prayer."

That would be a Monks' Ale, which is brewed here in NM... by The Benedictine monks of the Monastery of Christ in the Desert, in Abiquiu.  The friars have this to say about that:

Monks’Ale is an excellent session ale that is distinctively spicy with moderate fruity esters (particularly stone fruits).

The yeast lends a note of clove and in combination with the malts, hints of plum and apricot. The malts provide a distinct honeyish quality up front and round full middle. The malts and yeast provide a clean, crisp, dry, finish to Monks’ Ale.

Me?  I like it quite a bit on first tasting.  I can see myself doin' two or mebbe three of these this afternoon.  It's taken me a while but I'm beginning to find some very high quality beers here in the Land of Entrapment Enchantment.  This is one of 'em.

Heh

My Buddy Ed In Florida sends this along...

It gets better towards the end

Character

Where do the characters go when I use my backspace or delete them on my PC?

ANSWER: The characters go to different places, depending on whom you ask:

The Buddhist explanation: If a character has lived rightly, and its karma is good, then after it has been deleted it will be reincarnated as a different, higher character. Those funny characters above the numbers on your keyboard will become numbers, numbers will become letters, and lower-case letters will become upper-case.

The 20th-century bitter cynical nihilist explanation: Who cares? It doesn't really matter if they're on the page, deleted, undeleted, underlined, etc. It's all the same.

The Mac user's explanation: All the characters written on a PC and then deleted go to straight to PC hell. If you're using a PC, you can probably see the deleted characters, because you're in PC hell also.

Stephen King's explanation: Every time you hit the (Del) key you unleash a tiny monster inside the cursor, who tears the poor, unsuspecting characters to shreds, drinks their blood, then eats them, bones and all. Hah, hah, hah!

The Christian Church's approach to characters: The nice characters go to Heaven, where they are bathed in the light of happiness. The naughty characters are punished for their sins. Naughty characters are those involved in the creation of naughty words, such as "breast," "sex," and contraception."

Dave Barry's explanation: The deleted characters are shipped to Battle Creek, Michigan, where they're made into Pop-Tart filling; this explains why Pop-Tarts are so flammable, while cheap imitations are not flammable. I'm not making this up.

IBM's explanation: The characters are not real. They exist only on the screen when they are needed, as concepts, so to delete them is merely to de-conceptualize them. Get a life.

PETA's (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) explanation: You've been DELETING them??? Can't you hear them SCREAMING??? Why don't you go CLUB some BABY SEALS while wearing a MINK, you pig!!!!

Heh.  I like the Buddhist explanation, a lot.  But I would, wouldn't I?  I hope I come back as that hooker with the heart o' gold when I'm deleted.  I figger I have a good shot; my karma's been pretty good so far.

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack, In Which We Recycle a Post While Updating Same

The recycling...

Friday, April 29, 2011

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack

My favorite Canadian chirp...  Well, check that.  My favorite chirp, regardless of nationality.

Old man sleeping on his bags
Women with that teased up kind of hair
Kids with the jitters in their legs
And those wide wide open stares
And the kids got cokes & chocolate bars
There's a thin man smoking a fat cigar
Jealous lovin'll make you crazy
If you can't find your goodness
Cause you've lost your heart

Hey!  That's ME Joni's on about!

Who'd a thunk it?  (Just for grins 'n' giggles... google "and me the chirp."  Why am I not Numero Uno?)

And the update...two years on, to the very day:

Our fat cigar is a Romeo y Julieta Reserve and our soundtrack is as noted.  One more thing: we broke out one of the old Red Wings memorabilia items, just for Old Times' Sake and as a harbinger o' things to come.

So now it's back outside to continue as we've begun.  Did I mention it's a GLORIOUS day here on THPoNM?  Well, it is... 88 degrees with gentle winds out o' the southwest.  Yes, it most certainly IS.

Spring Fauna

There's this in the southwest corner o' my carport...

It's pretty cool to sit out on the verandah during feeding time.  Those lil chicks make a real peeping racket... or as much racket as peeping can be... when Mom flies in with a snack.  Mom did a pretty good job o' decorating the digs, dontcha think?  The flowers are a nice touch.  Dad helps out too, but he was nowhere to be seen today.  Mebbe later, when he gets home from work... or the birdie strip bar.

One other thing, and I'm tempting fate by mentioning it, they have yet to shit on my car.  It's thankful, we are.

Grab Bag

Randomness...

I was awakened by the phone at sumthin' like oh-dark-thirty this morning, or about 0915 hrs, same-same for me.  My Buddy Lee In Oregon called with some news about a friend who's battling cancer (prognosis: good) and with a small request.  Lee has a couple o' friends currently on a cross-continent mo'sickle trip and would it be OK if they dropped in to do a lil laundry and recharge... seein' as how I'm "on the way?"  Why certainly, sez I.  I'm always up for a lil bit o' bench racing and other forms of swapping lies, so come on down.  I may not ride any longer but I have 40 years worth o' mo'sickle stories to share.  So I may have company tomorrow.

Oh.  Yes, I WAS civil with Lee, even considerin' I'd been awakened from a dead sleep and hadn't even THOUGHT about coffee yet.  I'm such a good guy.  Sometimes.

―:☺:―

We're in that sweet spot o' the year, that brief period o' time in Spring and Fall when I need neither heat nor air conditioning... just open up the windows (dust permitting) and let it all hang out.  My electric bill drops by about 50% during this time and we DO like the savings that's in it.  Then again, I think my electric bills are pretty reasonable for an all-electric house: I've never paid more than $101.00 in any given month and that was in the dead o' winter.  

We may have to fire up the AC for a bit today or tomorrow, however, coz it's gonna be warmish these next two days:

Great verandah weather, though.

―:☺:―

A miscellaneous bitch:  My apartment has those gotdamned eco-friendly low-volume-flush toilets.  So my question is... what fucking good are they if you have to flush the damned things TWICE?  I suppose saving water is a good thing (and its an especially good thing in water-challenged areas like The High Plains o' New Mexico) and I also realize I only flush once for Number One.  But it really galls me to HAVE to flush twice, otherwise.

I'll add that to my list of First World Problems.

―:☺:―

Speaking of First World Problems... an alternate term is "Posh Problem."  That's what the Brits say and I learned this by watching oh-dark-thirty Bloomberg News on my teevee, wherein they air the very early bid'niz news (we're talking from 0100 to 0300 hrs or thereabouts) from their London studio.  Mebbe I'll start using that term or would that be an affectation?

I think I just answered my own question.

―:☺:―

It begins tomorrow night!  Yays for me, but YOUR mileage may vary, Gentle Reader. 



Yeah, let's meet some characters.

It's 22, Bitchez*!

From NHL.com...

The Detroit Red Wings and Minnesota Wild completed the playoff field on Saturday by winning their regular-season finales on the road. The Red Wings beat the Dallas Stars 3-0, while the Wild defeated the Colorado Avalanche 3-1.

That left the Red Wings in seventh place with 56 points and the Wild in eighth with 55. Both teams needed the victories because the Columbus Blue Jackets won their final game by rallying past the Nashville Predators 3-1. The Blue Jackets and Wild both finished with 55 points, but Minnesota finished eighth and Columbus ninth because the Wild had more non-shootout wins.

It sucks to be a Columbus fan today and I say that with all the respect I can muster.  The BJs had the second best record in the league during the month of April and could have really done some damage in the playoffs; I'd have been jes a lil bit worried if I were Chicago and had to face them in the first round.  Minnesota, OTOH, finished the season on a downward spiral.

As for our Wings?  We can beat Anaheim, easily.  We took two from them... on THEIR home ice... in back-to-back fashion in March and we're a lot healthier now than we were then.  Yes, this can be done.  Wings in six or less.

LGRW!

* "Bitchez" is a term of endearment among The 19.

Broadening Our Horizons LXI

It almost feels like summer outdoors (73 degrees; bright, brilliant NM sun; and NO wind!) and it felt that way when we made our bi-monthly beer and commissary run out to Cannon Airplane Patch earlier today.  So, there we were...  perusing the beer selection at the Class VI store and we see New Belgium released its summer seasonal offering.  Well, yes.  Hell, yes!  Grab a sixer, go to the check-out, and then RTB to unload and such.

So we're enjoying one of these, as we speak.  Like this:

Here's how NB bills the beer:

A delightful summer ale for easy sipping and a classic Belgian yard game for easy enjoyment, Rolle Bolle is how we roll. Brewed with monk fruit and soursop, this beer pours a brilliant blonde, with a fluffy, white head. Earthy and tropical tones carry the aroma and the taste follows accordingly. Rolle Bolle’s hint of tartness is backed with the citrus bite of Cascade and Centennial hops. Oats add some creaminess to the mouthfeel, and it finishes dry and clean. Time to get in the yard, crack a bottle and start rolling. 

Well, we ain't gonna roll... as in Rolle Bolle, the game.  But we shall roll with this beer, which is everything NB sez it is and then some.  I'll be adding another sixer or three into our fridge o' many charms before summer's even here.  As I've said before: I've hardly ever met a New Belgium beer I didn't like.

Our cigar today is a Partagas Spanish Rosado, a favorite here at El Casa Inmóvil De Pennington.

And what are we listenin' to?  Well... this, for starters: 



Sorry... but I just couldn't help myself.  Rolle Bolle just sounds TOO much like Wooly Bully.  Rock on.

Saturday

Oh, to be 12 again and find this sorta krep interesting/exciting...



Yes, it's yet another lame week at the Usual Source, unless a vid o' baboons invading and wrecking a house is yer ideer o' fun.

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack, In Which We Recycle a Meme

So here's the meme... about clouds, past and present:

Clouds, as seen in the late and oh-so-lamented Green Hornet's paint and in The Tart's paint.  We prolly could have done better by The Tart, had we moved her out from under the carport and in to full sun... but we're lazy, yanno?

So.  The music?  Predictable:

I've looked at clouds from both sides now
From up and down, and still somehow
It's cloud illusions I recall
I really don't know clouds at all.

[...]

I've looked at love from both sides now
From give and take, and still somehow
It's love's illusions I recall
I really don't know love at all 

Yeah, I've looked at clouds from both sides now.  Other things, too, but it's the clouds that bring us the greatest joy.

AGAIN?

That would be my latest shipment o' cigars.  I suppose the good news is I can "expect" my package tomorrow (the scare quotes imply sarcasm), but ya know whut?  This shit is gettin' OLD.

Heh

From The Duffel Blog...

MINNEAPOLIS, MN – Officials from the Minnesota Department of Motor Vehicles have confirmed approval of a new policy making it mandatory for all active-duty and military veterans to register their status with the agency. The move will require all veterans to have a special “Vet” designation on their drivers’ licenses and state identification cards.

[...]

“We’ve seen what these savages are capable of all over CNN and MSNBC,” says DMV director, Greg Olson. “Out of all the millions of men and women who have deployed to combat zones this past decade, there are literally a dozen, perhaps even two,  who have come home and committed atrocious acts. That’s way too big a chance. We can’t risk having these people hidden in our community and will be making sure they’re easily identifiable to law enforcement personnel and citizens in general.”

The new strategy will most likely result in changed police escalation-of-force procedure when dealing with veterans during routine traffic stops.

According to Olson, law enforcement officers will be given more opportunity to defend themselves against a perceived threat.

“Phase One will consist of the officer identifying an individual’s vet status on his or her driver’s license,” he says. “Once the officer realizes what he or she is dealing with, Phase Two will kick in and they will immediately unsheathe their pistol and drawdown on the potential psychopath. Then, at Phase Three, the officer will be given free reign to search the individual’s vehicle for weapons and dead bodies. If, and only if, the officer doesn’t find anything, then he will subsequently release the veteran and thank them for their service.”

RTWT.  The WSJ, among others*, have praised the Duffel Blog's satire as cutting edge, and it most certainly IS.

Good stuff, Maynard.

* "others" includes a number of general officers, not the least o' which is retired Marine Gen. James "Mad Dog" Mattis.

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack

Our favorite jazz guitarist...



I like Wes' version of this tune MUCH better than that ol' chestnut by The Mamas and the Papas, which is well and truly overplayed.  And then there's this, as long as we're on about "California Dreamin'"...



Both tunes are from our way, wayback... as in the mid-to-late '60s.  With apologies to Mr. Dickens: it was the best o' times, it was the worst o' times, with no further elaboration forthcoming.

That said... let's skip forward to a better place in Former Happy Days, i.e., 1976.  I was in Tokyo at the time and listened to this tune from George Benson quite a bit, George bein' another guy who ranks quite high in my panthenon o' jazz guitarists:



Yeah, it's a jazzy sorta day here on THPoNM and memories abound.

Bottom Story of the Day

Ah, we love slow news days, coz then we get stuff like this:

Mars Rover Accidentally Draws A Penis In Outer Space

Nasa's $800 million machines are looking for signs of life on the red planet.

Instead, they've done this. 

That's from BuzzFeed UK.  Really.

It's On the Line Tonight

You may ask "What's on the line, Buck?" And I would answer this:

Photo credit: White and Red Until I'm Dead

DETROIT — To appreciate the streak – how long it has been, why it is incredible, what is at stake – stand inside the hallway that leads to the Detroit Red Wings’ dressing room and the Joe Louis Arena ice.

The last time the Red Wings missed the playoffs was the 1989-90 season. Lining the walls are simple wooden plaques and team pictures screwed into the cinderblock, one for each edition of the Wings since Mike Ilitch bought the franchise in 1982. Each plaque lists the season and the names of the executives, coaches, players and trainers. The bottom line is the record.

Start at 1989-90, the last Wings team to miss the playoffs. Walk past the door to the training room. Count 18 plaques in a row on the left (including the 2004-05 season erased by a lockout), and keep going. Keep going past the door to the dressing room, turn around at the entrance to the ice and come back up the other side. Count four more plaques.

The Wings are riding a 21-season playoff streak, the longest in pro sports. And now, for the first time in more than two decades, they are fighting for a spot in the last days of the regular season.

[...]

Where were you in April 1990? Where are you now? 

(YrHmblScrb's answer: I was in Dee-troit and I was a not-so-long suffering Wings fan, dating from 1985.  You know where I am now and a LOT o' water has gone under the bridge since 1990.)


[...]

No player in the NHL today was in the league the last time the Wings missed the playoffs. Nine of the franchises in the NHL today weren’t in the league the last time the Wings missed the playoffs.

Those quotes?  They're from this article and you should RTWT if'n you're a hockey fan; it's REQUIRED reading if you're a Wings fan.  

So. Tonight it's the Kings at The Joe, tomorrow it's the Preds (at The Joe, again), and Saturday it's the Stars in Dallas.  We'll be there for all those games (well, in front of our teevee) and we WILL have our jersey on, our fingers crossed, and we'll be cheering, regardless of the outcome.  We're ONE point out of eighth place, as we speak... so this is entirely doable.

Here's hopin'.

H/t: the Usual Hockey Source.

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack: Dancin'

It's a Motown.. or Soul... kinda Wednesday afternoon and we led off with this ol' chestnut from our past:

You broke my heart
'Cause I couldn't dance
You didn't even want me around
And now I'm back, to let you know
I can really shake 'em down

That ain't me coz I was the livin', breathin' example o' "white boys can't dance."  OTOH, give me a few beers and I was also the livin', breathin' example o' "dance like nobody's watching."  Which was good enough for all intents and purposes, I suppose.

This ain't the first time I've posted this song and there's this about that:

Would you believe this is from 19-sixty-freakin' three?  It is...  This tune brought a lotta stuff to mind, first and foremost bein' the fact that I'm the quintessential White Boy and I can NOT dance.  That never stopped me, though, as I've been known to get up on the floor and make a fool o' myself, albeit not lately.  

The second thang that came to mind is Norman Mailer's famous quote... "Tough guys don't dance," which I availed myself of a LOT in the way-back.  The third and final thang I remembered is what The Second Mrs. Pennington told me early on in our relationship: "People dance like they fuck."  Or mebbe it was the reverse... "People fuck like they dance"... time has dimmed the actual wording of said quote.  The intent is most certainly clear and it makes me wonder, in retrospect, because I sure as Hell couldn't dance.  Yet the fact remains the girl hung with me for 23 years, in spite of what she thought about the subject.  Was she wrong?  Was she right?  Whatevah... my dancin' was apparently sufficient for all intents and purposes.  Until it wasn't.  Heh.

Well, now.  It's entirely possible TSMP had this in mind during our courtship:

Bring it down one time
It ain't the meat it's the motion
It ain't the meat, I say the movement, girl
It ain't the meat, it's the action
That makes your daddy wanna rock 

Yo Mama, too.

Mebbe I need a "TMI" category for posts.  Ya think?

Reminds Me o' Someone I Used to Know

H/T: Occasional reader and frequent correspondent Rob.

A Follow-Up

Seems like I wasn't the only one reporting weirdness this past Friday morning.  From the PNT "Police Blotter" for Friday past...

• 12:40 a.m.: Someone keeps knocking at his door, 900 block of West 16th Street.

• 12:42 a.m.: Someone trying to get into his residence, 800 block of West 17th Street.

• 12:47 a.m.: A drunken individual, 800 block of West 16th Street.

That drunk was really gettin' around, wasn't he? He was also lucky he didn't get his ass shot off.  

Just sayin'.

WTF?

Right now:

OK, Ma Nature... this ISN'T funny.  Not at ALL.

The Beginning of the End

From the Usual USAF Source...

Final F-4 Regenerated for Use as Aerial Target
The final F-4 regenerated from storage in the Air Force's aircraft boneyard at Davis-Monthan AFB, Ariz., earlier this month departed the base for Mojave, Calif., for conversion to a QF-4 target drone, announced base officials. This RF-4C airframe, dubbed "Last One," left Davis-Monthan on April 17, states the base's April 19 release. "It's a great feeling to see such a magnificent aircraft fly again to serve the warfighter," said Eddie Caro, the crew chief assigned to the aircraft since December 2012. BAE Systems will convert the platform into the QF-4 configuration in California and then deliver it to Tyndall AFB, Fla. This airframe arrived at Davis-Monthan for retirement in January 1989 and had been dormant until technicians with the base's 309th Aerospace Maintenance and Regeneration Group last year began restoring it to flying status, according to the release. The Air Force is transitioning from the QF-4 to using QF-16s as its full-scale aerial targets. (Davis-Monthan report by Teresa Pittman) (See also Three-Hundredth QF-4 Delivered.)

I suppose goin' down in flames is preferable to rusting away in The Boneyard... or, as Neil put it: "It's better to burn out than to fade away..."

"But When She Got There the Cupboard Was Bare"

With apologies to Old Mother Hubbard.  About this sign... it is to laugh:

There's not a box of .38 Special ammunition... or .22LR, .357, .45 ACP, or even shotgun shells in any caliber other than .410... to be found anywhere in Portales or Clovis.  Like the lady at my gun shop in Clovis said: "Fuckin' Obama."  That's a direct quote.

My apologies for the piss-poor cell phone pic.  But you get the ideer.

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack

For a friend:



Go ahead: sing along.  Because you CAN.

Well, It's Earth Day So Let's Recycle Some Pixels

From three years back:

Thursday, April 22, 2010

It's All About Mama Earth Today

Well... let us celebrate Gaia!  To begin with... remember that post last week about all the dandelions here in Beautiful La Hacienda Trailer Park?  Well, I stand corrected.  It seems like the caretakers/groundskeepers in BLHTP are just slightly ahead of the curve, and are obviously thinking about our Earth Mom.  From Tuesday's NYT ("The Dandelion King"):

As I’ve told my neighbors, I feel bad about lowering the value of their property. I mean, it isn’t my goal to have a front yard that, by standard reckoning, is unattractive. The unkept look of my lawn is just a byproduct of a conclusion I reached a few years ago: the war on weeds, though not unwinnable, isn’t winnable at a morally acceptable cost.

[...]

I mean, sure, an expanse of green probably does appeal to the typical human’s sense of beauty. But so does a snowcapped Alpine peak — and I’m definitely not putting one of those in my front yard. The question isn’t whether carpets of green are intrinsically attractive, but whether the more natural alternative — my front yard — is intrinsically unattractive.

I think not. If it were, why would hikers pause, look out on an unruly expanse of earth and reflect on how great it feels to escape civilization for the great outdoors? Moreover, given our species’ long history of traversing various unkept landscapes, how could natural selection have imbued us with an intense aversion to them?

So I think it’s possible in principle to engineer a new ethos that allows us to fight chemical negative externalities without creating aesthetic and hence financial ones. Maybe someday suburban neighborhoods will consist of lawns that look like mine, and everyone will admire them.

Back to BLHTP's management.  In addition to being considerate of Mama Earth, it seems there's also a considerable amount of trendiness in play here.  P-Ville?  Trendy?  Who'd a thunk it?

As implied above... today is Earth Day, one of those non-holidays celebrated by All The Best People Who Really Rilly Care.  And here's the latest shot across the bow for us troglodytes who tend to turn a jaundiced eye on the whole Earth Day thing...  from "How to Green Your Parents," in yesterday's NYT...

Thursday is the 40th anniversary of the original Earth Day. Over the years, the impact of this once seminal day has lessened. Earth Day brings people together for nice gatherings and noble efforts but has, for the most part, made sustainable action more of an annual event than a daily habit. We’ve got to change that.

Here’s a move in the right direction: launching this Earth Day is Green My Parents (ed: dead link and we're prolly all better for it, too), a nationwide effort to inspire and organize kids to lead their families in measuring and reducing environmental impact at home. Not just on Earth Day, but every day. GMP’s initial goal is to have its first 100 youth advocates train and educate 100 peers (who will then turn to 100 of their respective peers and so on), with the aim of saving families $100 million between now and April 2011.

Ah.  Good on the American Young Komsomols.  You're following in some well-defined and heavily trafficked footsteps.  That said... a brief cautionary note to MY offspring:
 

Don't. Even. Think. About. It.  

I'm just being sarcastic, coz I know you wouldn't lecture me in any way, shape, or form.  It's not that we don't care about Gaia - quite the contrary.  We just don't like to wear our heart on our sleeve in that smug and patronizing sort of way.  And we hate indoctrination of any sort.

Gaia image from here.  Dang.  I need me one of these.  I think she'd look good among the dandelions, kind of a 21st century garden gnome.  Doncha think?

I STILL need/want one of those statues, just to keep my flamingos company.  Gaia looks rather Buddhist, too, which is right up my alley.

Today's Happy Hour... Soundtrack?

It's a brilliant day here on the High Plains o' New Mexico... 73 degrees, clear and calm... and we're takin' advantage o' that fact by extending Happy Hour well beyond the usual "two and done."  Evidence:

It should be obvious... but just in case it's NOT... we've been sampling a lot o' the goodness that lies within our fridge o' many charms, the latest o' which is a Shiner Hefeweizen, not the least among the many great good beers we have at our disposal.

As for our soundtrack... we're listenin' to The Last Waltz and are goin' thru our third turn (at least!) at that four-disc set.  One such track:



Ah, Neil.  He provided the soundtrack for lots o' other seminal events in our life.  But let us not dwell on Former Happy Days... let's just live in the moment, coz this moment is pretty danged GOOD.

Me Too

I notice some of my blog-buds who live in more temperate, not to mention verdant, climes are posting or have posted photos of local Spring color... ranging from bulbs (e.g., daffodils, crocuses, etc.), to wisteria, to redbud trees, and other unknown-to-me yet colorful flowers... all of which are quite beautiful.  We don't have quite that much variety here on the High Plains o' New Mexico, but we do have SOME harbingers o' Spring, which also includes some weirdness.  Witness these spiky lil things:

Makes me wanna shout "ALIENS!"

I have NO ideer what these spiky plants are called but they certainly are strange.  Those purplish shoots will eventually grow out to a height of about five and a half feet with delicate lil flowers that eventually turn into seed pods.  Like this:

Last year's seed pods, gone to seed.

Well, there ya have it.  "Local Spring color," such as it is.

Nice Touch, Bruins

A pic from the current front page of the Boston Globe:

Click to embiggen.

The Globe is free to all readers today.

Saturday

Awwww...



We're all about Happy Endings here at EIP, and that one was pretty happy.  It sure didn't start out that way, though.  Poor kid.  Apropos o' nuthin', here's what our Brit friends at the Usual Source o' these things have to say:

Isn't it amazing that you can try to indoctrinate kids into appreciating a favourite sport - but sometimes they just don't get it! Take this little lad, given a prime seat for a top baseball game. He manages to get the match ball after a foul shot – and then throws it back again. Just look at the reaction from the rest of the family …

Two peoples, separated by a common language.

OTOH, there's this:



Pretty clever, albeit with too much emphasis on very recent times (YMMV, of course).  I think that chick is prolly a great swimmer, too.

A Lil Bit o' Excitement This Morning

That would be early this morning, like around or shortly after 0100 hrs.  There I was, surfin' the inter-tubes in my office when I hear someone on my front porch stumble over the paving stones I use to anchor my doormat, followed by the sound of my storm door banging open and the rattling of the main door's handle, followed by very loud banging on the door.  I immediately did two things: (a) locked and loaded and (b) called 911.  I then went into the living room and shouted through the door that the police were on their way, at which time the banging stopped. When I say "banging," I mean loud and forceful banging... hard enough to knock the picture hanging on the wall by the front door askew.  The door frame in this apartment is pretty damned strong and that's prolly a good thing for both me (saving me from having to explain why there's a body laying just inside my door) and whoever was trying to get in (saving them from acquiring multiple additional orifices in their piece-o-shit body).

The cops arrived about two minutes later (pretty damned quick, eh?) but there was no sign of anyone in the vicinity. The officer at my front door then got a radio call that there was an adult male lurking on the north side... that would be the back side... of my building.  The officer excused herself and said she might be back, but they would get this guy.

Well, OK.  That was the last thing I heard.  You can imagine that getting to sleep was a lil bit problematic... so we entertained ourselves until about 0500 by watching the unfolding drama in Boston.

What a coincidence, eh?