Time to shut off the lights here, it started as bitching about work and became a more personal venting space. This is not a bad thing, but now something bigger is happening in my life. If you still want to keep up with me, than go here. Of course I'll stil bitch about work and stuff but a new beginning needs a new blog, I think.

http://stepdad-like.blogspot.com/



Bye

I did not know about the I75/9 mile collapse until this morning. Just a little bit late though.

Yup, I don't think I would have the stones to do that.

Maybe 12 years late, but anyhow unexplained noises in the Pacific, to be specific.

The Bloop



and The Slow Down

Both off the west coast of South America. Hmm. Of course there is some rational explanation....

Or it's our good buddy!




Yup, throw away your last vestiges of sanity and prepare to writhe in his slimy tentacles!

New car from GM (Government Motors)

Mad person plays piano
Theme from old Hulk TV show
Monsters in her head?

Ace

June 6, 1944

You know what I did this morning? Maybe it would be better if I told you what I didn't do this morning.

I didn't have to spend over 12 hours on a transport ship in choppy water, then clamber down a cargo net into a plywood landing craft, all while carrying up to 100 pounds of gear on my back. Then, I didn't ride through the rough surf in that little plywood target, only to have the steel ramp (the only part of the little plywood boat that was even remotely bullet-resistant) flop down and drop me into the cold ocean water in front of a beach filled with steel obstacles, mines, flying bullets & exploding artillery rounds.

I didn't fly over enemy occupied territory at 1000 feet in a C47 cargo plane and then jump out of the plane into the teeth of enemy anti-aircraft fire. I didn't have to worry about my bright white silk parachute making me a good target for troops on the ground who wanted to use me for target practice, and after I landed, I didn't have to worry about engaging a vastly superior force with only the gear I carried with me (providing that said gear wasn't ripped off by the turbulence I encountered exiting the plane) with whoever I could gather together from the other troops dropped behind enemy lines the same as I was.

I didn't march into a plywood glider (PLYWOOD, as we've already established, is NOT very resistant to gunfire and explosions) and sit quietly while I was towed into anti-aircraft fire, only to be released and experience a controlled crash into trees, buildings or apparently open fields that were booby trapped with wooden poles and steel cables by the enemy.

I wasn't asked to take my place in a McGyvered together amphibious tank, where I would most likely be swamped by the waves and sink to the bottom of the English Channel like....well, like a tank rigged for amphibious operations with lumber and canvas. And if I DID happen to get to the beach, I would have been the prime target of every enemy artillery piece for miles around.

I wasn't asked to sit in a command bunker deep beneath London looking at casualty projections that predicted that we would lose 60% of the airborne troops committed to this battle and a good chunk of the troops storming the beaches, and I also didn't prepare a letter taking full blame for the possible disaster in order to protect my political leaders.

You know what? Now that I've told you what I DIDN'T do this morning, what I actually DID seems pretty freakin' trivial. Veterans of the Normandy landing are becoming scarce now that we're sixty-five years down the road from that horrible day, but if you know one of them, make sure to thank them on this day. And don't limit yourself to D-Day vets - whether it was Normandy, Okinawa, the Chosin Reservoir, the Tet Offensive, Grenada, Panama, Mogadishu, Fallujah, or just some godforsaken mountain road at the ass-end of Afghanistan, EVERYONE who served this country in uniform deserves a hearty handshake and our everlasting gratitude on this day.

And those veterans who never saw a shot fired in anger? Thank them too. As John Wayne once said in his last movie role, "It's not about being the fastest gun: Its about being WILLING." Everyone who wore the uniform was willing to "go see the elephant", and that willingness sets them apart from the rest of us.

God help any nation that cannot produce men and women like them. Remember that on this day.

So, at this time, it would appear that David Carradine died of accidental auto erotic asphyxiation.
I don't care nor can judge about someone else's kink. If you like it, well, whatever. But that is a dumb way to die.
So, there you are. A famous movie star. You have lots of money,  and you like to get off by strangling yourself while masturbating. 
You are in Bangkok, Thailand, A city infamous for it's sex trade.

Do you:
A: Talk to the manager/dude who arranges stuff but I can't remember his title, about getting some english speaking high class company for the night

B: G in thoe closet and strangle yourself while jacking off without any kind of safeguards at all


Seriously people.
Call for the high class english speaking hooker. As a matter of fact I'm willing to bet that in Bang-frickin-kok Thailand you will be able to find discrete asisstance for whatever kink you have.
Conversation goes something like this

Professional Girl
Hi, my name is x, how do you want to get crazy tonight? (as she starts removing clothes)
David Carradine:
Hi, you don't even need to take off your clothes, you see I'm going to go into that closet there and jack off while strangling myself wth this cord that I pulled down from the drapes. If after awhile you do not hear any *fapfapfap* noise, for say about 10 seconds come in and cut the rope so I don't freaking die, okay.

PG: (Who literally has Seen It All) That's it?

DC: Yup

PG: Okay!

A little while later

DC: *Fapfapfapfapfap....................................................................................................................."

PG: Hey you okay in there? (Opens door) Crap! (Cuts rope)

DC: (As he returns to conciousness) Whoa what a rush.

PG: Umm are you done now?

DC: Yeah Goodnight

PG: Say you know, not that it's any of my business, but a lot of people have died doing that.

DC: Yeah, but I like it and I try to be careful




Instead, he apparently opts for B and dies like a dumbass.
Sad, just a sad worthless way to die.

So they cut my jaw up Friday and took out the two little monstrous pieces of bone and tooth stuck in there from the last time some jerk worked on my mouth.

After two days of not being able to sleep, I feel better now (though tired) and my mouth only aches instead of screaming in pain. I suppose it worked. 

I have moved most of my stuff to the new place, I still have about 1/3 to go, mostly shoes, clothes that I do wear often, guns/ammo/reloading stuff. A dresser (which I will get tonight I think) the futon and a couple endtable things.

Power and gas should be on today, cable/phone/internet next week. Vlad shold be coming up with washer and dryer this week and I have to conjure up a fridge before the middle of the month


Busy, bus bee