I'm not a political writer, but yesterday's election has moved me. After hearing all the negative news about how this will never work, I thought I'd express some of my thoughts.

Obviously there is a long road ahead for Iraq, but I don't think yesterday's event can be looked at any way but positively.

Lately, through comments on other blogs, I've voiced my amazement that the left has obviously been hoping this would fail miserably so they could say Bush was wrong to even consider that the Iraqis would embrace the idea of democracy. What a shame that their utter contempt for Bush would make them want the Iraqis to continue living in turmoil.

What courageous people these were that came out by the millions to vote even with the threat of death or worse. People walked miles and stood in lines for hours just to be able to cast a vote for freedom.

Then, in defiance to the terrorists, they proudly held up their ink stained fingers to show the world. They danced in the streets. If that doesn't give you a good feeling, I feel sorry for you.

A big thank you goes out to our beloved men and women in uniform. Our military proved to the world why they are the best. They provided the necessary security that allowed the Iraqis to be able to vote.

The Iraqi people showed the survivors of those who have died in this war that their loved ones did not die in vain, as the left would have them believe.

Poor Ted Kennedy showed his idiocy last week by saying we should pull out and let the Iraqis handle it themselves. Does he really think they would have been able to have secure voting places without our military there?

And of course, there was John Kerry who booked himself on Meet the Press, thinking he was going to be able to tell the people how Bush screwed up. Oops! Instead he had to say, "... no one in the United States should try to over-hype this election."

He was forced to revert to his usual whining about how the U. S. is not doing enough to reach out to the international community regarding the situation in Iraq. Kerry said Iraq will fail if we don't follow his advice.

Kerry said we shouldn't make too big a deal out of this. "It's only an election."

What? Is the guy still stoned from the 60's? The Iraqi people are risking death to go out and vote for a new government. I don't know about anybody else, but that's a big deal to me.

I thought the president had a good letter of congratulations to the Iraqis.

The commitment to a free Iraq now goes forward. This historic election begins the process of drafting and ratifying a new constitution, which will be the basis of a fully democratic Iraqi government. Terrorists and insurgents will continue to wage their war against democracy, and we will support the Iraqi people in their fight against them. We will continue training Iraqi security forces so this rising democracy can eventually take responsibility for its own security.

There's more distance to travel on the road to democracy. Yet Iraqis are proving they're equal to the challenge. On behalf of the American people, I congratulate the people of Iraq on this great and historic achievement.

Go read the whole letter here.

Maybe one day we will be able to tell our children and grandchildren that we remember the day democracy started in the Middle East.

posted by Dash | 12:01 PM | |

"When you straddle a fence you only end up with a butt full of barbed wire."

I couldn't agree more!

Courtesy of Pamibe in a great post about the NRA.

Go check it out.

posted by Dash | 8:45 AM | |

Do you ever wonder why different religions have different ideas about whether it's okay to drink alcohol? I do.

When I was growing up, we went to church, but every adult I knew drank. When we had communion, we had what was called wine, even though my parents told me it was really just grape juice.

In the sixth century, St. Bridget of Ireland wrote a poem describing heaven as a lake of beer. The Holy Family resided on its shore, able to lap the frothy drink through all eternity.

In the seventh century, Mohammed understood Allah to reveal that strong drink was "Satan's handiwork." He set down in the Koran the prohibition against booze for a billion Islamic believers today.

Americans, like religions have always been divided on the subject. It's confusing to me. When we have toasts like, "To your health" and "Salud", they're made with something alcoholic, not iced tea.

While Jews and Catholics give wine a place at the heart of their observances, Mormons and Baptists pride themselves on sobriety.

Buddhism disapproves of intoxicants, as does Hinduism and Sikhism. They also frown on tobacco use.

Jews have Purim, a night when men tend to drink to intoxication.

It's been told that Noah was known to be a drinker. Paul instructed Timothy to "drink no longer water, but use a little wine for thy stomach's sake" (1 Timothy 6:23). Nevertheless, certain religions say alcohol is the demon's blood.

The Catholic approach to drinking is based on moderation. Monks have brewed beer and distilled brandy in monasteries since the Middle Ages.

They say "Alcoholic beverages are seen as a natural joy of creation, a normal, natural and enjoyable gift of God."

When Jimmy Carter the Southern Baptist became president, he eliminated hard liquor from the White House. I'm sure that was a big deal to some Senators from Massachusetts that will remain nameless. But, the Carters stuck to their guns and just served wine while they were there.

When Reagan was elected four years later, the liquor was promptly restored to the bar.

One of the most sober religions in America is the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, otherwise known as the Mormons. The Mormons don't permit alcohol, tobacco, tea or coffee.

But, it's been told that the founder Joseph Smith liked a nip every now and then, especially at weddings. According to Mormon historians, Smith's mansion house maintained a fully stocked bar.

So, which is it? Are we supposed to drink or not? I guess as everything else in this world, it's a matter of perspective and personal preference.

I think I'll drink to that.

posted by Dash | 7:30 AM | |

Inspired by a book written by someone who doesn't have any business trying to write a book, I decided it was my turn at the wheel. Usually, when you read these types of books (typically over 500 pages in length) you can boil down the message to one sentence.

"Doggone it, I'm a good person and if you had a lick of sense you'd agree with me on everything I have to say."

Now, I won't get the publicity some of those folks get, since I haven't been president of the U.S. of A., yet. But, I figure if they have what it takes, so do I.

The first thing I gotta do is think up a title, you know, what the book is gonna be about. I've always heard that the title is the last thing you write after you're finished with the book. That doesn't make a lot of sense to me. After all, the title is the first thing you see when you go to read a book, so it just stands to reason it should be first thing you write. Otherwise, if I don't know the title, how am I gonna know what to write about?

I'm not interested in spending a lot of time writing this book, so I've been trying to think of some titles to the world's shortest books. Here are some potential titles.

Everything Hunting Retrievers Can Do Regularly Without Screwing Up

Everything Women Know About the West Coast Offense

Everything Bill Clinton Knows About Keeping Little Willie in Check

Everything Jimmy Carter Knows About Modern Construction Practices

Everything This Writer Knows About The Bard

Everything You Can Do to Stay Alive When a Criminal Breaks Into Your House and You Don't Have a Gun Because You Don't Believe In Guns and Your State Doesn't Allow Them Anyway


Then some books I've thought of that would be really long are:

Why Ted Kennedy is the Wrong Man For the Job

Why Duck Hunters are Superior Human Beings Compared to Ice Fishermen and U.S. Senators

Why College Football Needs a Playoff System Instead of the Silly BCS

Why Classic Rock is Better Than Rap

Why Duct Tape is the Universal Tool

Fun Things You Could Do To Tourists From Massachusetts If It Wasn't Illegal

I'm sure there are a lot more, but that will be enough for me to get started. After I make the New York Times best seller list, I'll think about some more.

When I'm rich and famous, I'll try to remember my humble beginnings. Y'all hold your breath on that one.

posted by Dash | 2:52 PM | |

Eric at Straight White Guy had a story about a kid who ate a rabbit and a guinea pig that he bought at the pet store.

The comments to that were pretty interesting, but it got me to thinking about one time when I was a kid.

First of all, if you live in the country where farm animals are raised, eventually you're going to witness the slaughter of some of those animals and you're either going to have to learn how to deal with it or not.

One year after Thanksgiving my Dad decided it would be a good idea for us kids to raise next year's turkey. So he went out and bought a little one and brought it home.

We kids had seen other animals grow up on the place and we knew that some of them ended up on the dinner table, but this turkey was different.

Dad's first mistake was letting us give the turkey a pet name. The wildly creative individuals we were named him Jake.

Jake became one of the family. He would follow us around when we were doing chores, playing games in the yard, whatever. Jake was always there.

That following November, the day before Thanksgiving, Dad gave us a hatchet and told us to go out and kill the turkey, clean it and get it ready for the big meal.

Until then we had completely forgotten about Jake's fate. Even earlier in the year we thought surely Dad knows that Jake has become our pet. Surely he won't make us actually eat him when Thanksgiving comes around.

Wrong!

We had been given the order and now one of us had to step up and take care of business or our asses were going to be in for some serious pain. That belt was something none of us wanted anything to do with.

Well, we just couldn't do it. How could we? This was our buddy, Jake.

But, we knew Dad was expecting a special dinner that day. So we all took a vote and we decided it was wrong to eat Jake.

So...

...we ate our dog.

posted by Dash | 4:10 PM | |

Boudreaux's Death Notice

Marie Boudreaux went to the local newspaper and said she wanted to put in the Obituary Column that Boudreaux had died.

The editor at the paper told her it would be $1.00 per word. She said, "Okay, here's $2.00 ... put in dere BOUDREAUX DIED."

He said, Mrs. Boudreaux, surely you want more dan dat. She said, "Mais, no, just BOUDREAUX DIED."

The editor said, "Well, you're a little upset. Bring yourself back here tomorrow and you will probably tink of somethin else."

She came back the next day, and said, "Yeh, I taught of somethin else, "BOAT FOR SALE".

posted by Dash | 3:55 PM | |

I think Mr. Helpful started this, but Michele at Meanderings tagged me with this one. Gee, thanks...

I pride myself on liking a wide variety of music. I started with Classic Rock in the 70's and went through the Disco daze. I made some lengthy passes through the land of Southern Rock, Blues and Jazz, and finally landed on Country, and now what we call Texas Country or Americana music.

Random 10

1. Willie Nelson - Red Headed Stranger
2. ZZ Top - La Grange
3. Delbert McClinton - Livin' It Down
4. Queen - Bohemian Rhapsody
5. Jerry Jeff Walker - Pissin' In the Wind
6. Cross Canadian Ragweed - Anywhere But Here
7. The Derailers - All The Rage in Paris
8. Stevie Ray Vaughan - Tightrope
9. Robert Earl Keen - The Road Goes On Forever
10. Jimmy Buffett - Come Monday

1. What is the total amount of music files on your computer?
There are 1253 songs on my computer.

2. The last CD you bought is:
Cross Canadian Ragweed - Soul Gravy

3. What is the song you last listened to before this message?
Cheap Bourbon Whiskey and Pearl Snap Shirts - Jason Boland and the Stragglers

4. Five songs you often listen to or that mean a lot to you.
Pat Green - Carry On
Jimmy Buffett - Son Of A Son Of A Sailor
The Derailers - Bar Exam
Bruce Springsteen - Born to Run
Cross Canadian Ragweed - Alabama

5. Who are you gonna pass this stick to (three persons and why)?

Redneck - Let's see what a northern country boy listens to.
Boudicca - Is she really a Hip-Hop kind of mom in disguise?
El Capitan - What does a Pirate listen to?

posted by Dash | 7:29 PM | |

Is it just me, or is the devil popping up everywhere these days? I hate to blame it on George W (because Lord knows everything else that's bad is his fault), but ever since he was re-elected with his pro-religion agenda , there's been a lot of trouble with the devil.

Take for example, Sponge Bob SquarePants. A previously innocuous cartoon figure, Sponge Bob has been accused by some religious groups of hanging out in gay bars.

As Dax Montana would say, Just Damn! Just when you get comfortable with a cartoon, you find out he wants to escape the closet. I didn't even know they had closets underwater.

Why are we just now finding out about this? Did Patrick out him? There goes the possibility of running for office, unless he establishes residency in New Jersey.

To use a well worn cliche, it's a slippery slope. Next thing you know somebody will be accusing some of our oldtime favorites of being gay. Even Acidman said Bugs Bunny seemed kind of sweet to him.

What in the hell have we started? Are all those religious right folks just sitting there looking for trouble, watching the Cartoon Network 24/7 ? Do they think they're helping the youth of this country?

Then you have this deal with the Bush daughter and family flashing the "Hook 'em Horns" sign when the Texas Longhorn band marched by during the inauguration. People in Norway mistook that as a salute to Satan. The Norwegian headlines said, "Shock Greeting from Bush Daughter." Uh... no... a "shock greeting" would have been the ole one finger salute.

Apparently in Norway, the two fingers are a sign of the devil. That's funny, the folks over at Texas A&M feel the same way. Who knew so many Norwegians were Aggies? Or vice versa?

It's really funny to me that the Europeans are always on America's case for not being sensitive to other cultures. Then we have the Norwegians not understanding our culture of the Hook 'em sign. How could they not know the Hook 'em sign? Did none of these people watch the Rose Bowl? Do these people have no culture?

Another recent event is the brouhaha down the road in San Marcos, Texas. The mayor asked a representative of the U.S. Postal Service in a city council meeting if there was any way to change the city's Zip Code. She seems to think the number 78666 is rather inflammatory. You see, the 666 at the end is the number of the beast.

So, I figure if you're having a hard time getting mail delivered in San Marcos, it's because the post office there has gone to hell.

posted by Dash | 3:20 PM | |

You have your choice now at the beach in Encinitas, California. You can surf or you can... surf.

The state parks system and SBC Communications have partnered to offer a wireless Internet connection so visitors can log on to the Internet and e-mail pictures home after a hard day hiking, swimming and roasting wieners.

With wireless connections popping up everywhere, bloggers are going to be able to do their thing no matter where they are.

Is this a good thing?

posted by Dash | 2:06 PM | |

This story has the makings of a Disney movie.

Jeff Thomason will take off the next two weeks from his construction job to play tight end for the Eagles in the Super Bowl.

"It's incredible. I'm probably the luckiest guy in the world," Thomason said Tuesday after he signed with the Eagles to replace injured tight end Chad Lewis, a three-time Pro Bowl selection.

Lewis, who hurt his foot on the second of his two touchdown catches in Philadelphia's 27-10 victory over Atlanta in the NFC title game, was put on injured reserve to make roster space.

Thomason was working as a project manager for a construction company in New Jersey when the Eagles called Monday. Lewis actually made the first call, telling Thomason he was recommending him as a replacement.

Apparently Thomason has been staying in shape by training for and competing in triathlons.

It must be nice to be able to make more during your two week vacation than you make all year at your regular job.

Can you hear the conversation with the boss?

Hey, Boss, uh... I need to take a couple of weeks off.

Really! Why?

I'm going to play in the Super Bowl.

posted by Dash | 5:37 PM | |

Hunting season is about over except for some late season goose hunting down on the coastal prairies west of Houston. There’s such an over population of Snow Geese, the state has created an “extended” season to try to help reduce the massive numbers. Otherwise, the birds get avian cholera and die out by the thousands.

For me, it’s time to start thinking about cleaning some guns, getting some guns worked on and mounting that new riflescope I got for Christmas on my favorite deer rifle. I’ll need to take it to the range and zero it in for next season.

Aside from those chores, I’ll be cleaning up my hunting room, taking inventory of my gear, camo clothing, etc, etc. It will be time to get back to some serious training with my bird dog. I’ll also start thinking about some springtime bay fishing.

I’ll probably line up a couple of trips to Port Aransas or Baffin Bay for some speckled trout and redfish angling. It doesn’t get a lot more fun than that.

In the past, I’ve relied on some local sport shops where I can find whatever gear I need for such things. But, lately I’ve become accustomed to catalog and online shopping. If you know what you want and you know your sizes, you can have the stuff delivered to your door. Of course you have to be able to plan ahead a few days to allow for shipping, but that’s not a big price to pay.

One of the largest outfitters for this type of shopping is Cabela’s. I get no less than four or five Cabela’s catalogs every year. To say I get excited about the arrival of these catalogs is an understatement. I can plan on spending several hours perusing the pages for new stuff I might need or old stuff I wish I had.

I noticed Kim du Toit has the same problem. He says he just got his new Cabela's Shooting Catalog and will need to take a break.

Cabela’s which started in Nebraska as a mostly upland hunting outfitter, has evolved into a business with products for practically every outdoors sport you can think of. They have done a huge amount of business by mail order and if you buy anything from their online store, you can get on their “preferred” customer e-mail list which will alert you to certain special sales.

You’d think that would be enough to get guys like me to spend at least a quarter of their paycheck on new camo, guns, fishing gear, camping gear, etc. But, no. Now, they’re building an actual Cabela’s store in south Austin, about 20 minutes from my office. It's scheduled to open this summer and I’ll get to drive by it every single day going to and from work.

I’m toast.

Life as I know it is over. I don’t stand a chance. Once that store opens, I’ll not be able to make my truck pass by without me going in to look around and buy something. You know, there’s always that chance that something new came in today. You can’t afford to not go in and look. They could sell out and then where would you be? Without it, that’s where.

I’ve already warned my wife and kids that my paycheck will probably just go straight over there. We’ll probably just set up an automatic draft to Cabela’s. Hopefully my wife will be able to make enough money to be able to pay the other less significant bills like house note, electricity, water, insurance, etc.

I mean, do the kids really need new clothes every year? Do they really have to get braces on their teeth? Is college really all it’s cracked up to be? Wouldn’t they really rather have a new tent, some camo coveralls, and a Coleman stove?

posted by Dash | 3:40 PM | |

Johnny Carson has passed away.

Johnny was the king of late night television and one of my all-time favorites. I still laugh when I think of some of his comedy.

Rest in peace, Johnny. We will miss you.

posted by Dash | 1:19 PM | |

Gumbo is something that is near and dear to my heart. I've been making gumbo since I was about 12 years old and have been eating it since I was knee high to a grasshopper.

Let me put it to you this way. I love gumbo. Luckily, my family and friends love it, too. Otherwise, I'd just have to eat that much more.

The good thing about gumbo is it's versatility. It is the veritable "make it as it comes" kind of meal. I've made gumbo from duck, goose, rabbit, squirrel, chicken, seafood, pheasant, chukar, dove, venison, guinea, quail, etc.

I'll make gumbo out of whatever I can get my hands on. So, my neighbors know to keep their pets on a short leash when in the vicinity.

Several years ago I was getting ready to go to the hunting camp for opening weekend of deer season. Some of my hunting buddies knew that I had already stashed several squirrels in my freezer and they asked me to make a gumbo for the main meal on Friday night.

It was wet and cold that Friday morning. So, the atmosphere was right. Before I headed out to work, I got a big pot of squirrel gumbo started.

I had a light work schedule for that day. All I had to do was make one call on a client about an hour away from the house and that was it. After that I could load up my gear and the vittles and head out to the camp for a much needed weekend of R & R.

On my way home from the meeting, I was driving though the woods, minding my own business, thinking about how nice it was going to be to get away for a couple of days, and I noticed something that's not unusual for that part of the country. The car in front of me tried to dodge a crossing squirrel, but hit it anyway.

Ususally if I see that, I just kind of say something like, "dumb squirrel", and continue on my merry way. It's unfortunate for the squirrel, but a lucky day for a buzzard. That's the way the balance of nature works, I guess.

I did happen to notice that the squirrel had almost made it across the highway and was only hit in the (ladies and sissy men turn you head, 'cause this isn't very pleasant) head. For some reason I stopped and turned around to go analyze the situation with the head flattened squirrel.

Well, things were starting to add up. He didn't seem to have any other injuries and I did have a pot of squirrels on the stove already. May as well add one more. Maybe the road rash would give it a little extra flavor.

So I threw him into the bed of my truck, took him home, cleaned him, and threw him in the pot with the rest of his cousins.

The guys at the camp thought it was the best gumbo I had ever made. They wanted to know what I had done differently. I just smiled and said, "cook's secret recipe."

posted by Dash | 7:07 PM | |

Sam at The Brier Patch has a post on spicing things up.

I'd say these colleges are "thinking outside the box."

Where were these recruiters when I was shopping for an institution of higher learning?

posted by Dash | 3:39 PM | |

One of the things I like about my chosen field of employment is that on occasion, I get to spend some time away from the desk. I’ve never been one who could sit at a desk for hours on end without even looking up to see what time it is.

My job requires a lot of that, but when I get the chance, I head out to the jobsite to get a feel for what’s going on.

Back in the day, when I actually had to toil in the outdoors, I longed for the day that I could just go inside and work in the nice air conditioned office. That was the impetus for me to work harder in college and get a degree in something useful.

The first job I had after college was as a project engineer on a high-rise office building for a large computer company. Even though my work space was less than prestigious, I enjoyed working out there. One reason was that I got to know a lot of the people who did the actual work. Each was a character in his own right.

One particularly interesting person on that project was the labor foreman. His name was Hippy. He was a black man, mid-forties, no formal education to speak of, but had more experience building concrete buildings than anyone I had ever met. He was in charge of over 100 laborers and concrete finishers. Our company self-performed all the concrete work, so he was one of the top dogs on the site, alongside the carpenter foreman and the ironworker foreman. Of course there was a superintendent who was in charge of all these foremen, but the real work happened because of these men.

You can imagine that Hippy was quite full of himself, as he should be. On a job like that, every once and a while, you have to show everyone why you’re a big dog.

Well, word got around that my birthday was coming up. Hippy let out the word that he was going to get one of the carpenters to construct a big paddle, get some of his biggest and baddest laborers to hold me down so he could wear my ass out with that big paddle. Kind of a special birthday present from the field guys to the “new office guy”… kind of an initiation ritual.

At 6’-2”, 210 lbs, I’m not a little guy, but the thought of having this occur was, let’s just say “disconcerting”.

I had gotten to know Hippy pretty well and there were two things I knew about him. One was he was from a rough part of town and wasn’t too afraid of getting hurt. Two was he was deathly afraid of snakes. He was so scared, you could show him a picture of a snake, and he would run as fast as he could to get away.

So, I devised a plan to dissuade him from jacking with me on my birthday. When he came in to get me, I fired a blank in the air from my .22 pistol I kept in my truck. I hoped that would be enough to turn him around. It failed. He said, “I’ve been shot before and I’m not afraid of any little pistol.” He kept coming. So much for Plan A.

On to Plan B. I had a rubber snake that was a toy, but looked incredibly real. As he stepped closer, I said, “Okay… THEN HERE!”, as I tossed the rubber snake on him.

Bingo!!!! He was completely panicked. I have never seen a grown man act like that before or since. It was the most incredible thing you can imagine. I think it took him about 2 seconds to get out of my office, out the door to my job trailer, and into the parking lot.

When I looked out the window to find him, I thought he was on the verge of having a massive coronary right there on the site. He was crouched down, leaning on a car, and hyperventilating. I’m thinking, “Oh shit! I’ve killed him”. I’m wondering how in the hell I’m going to explain this one to my boss.

Just when I thought to call 911, he looked up, still panting, and said, “Okay… you win.”

Hippy finally gained his composure, and started to walk back up to the building where he knew he was safe.

As he ambled away he mumbled something to himself that sounded something like, “I hate white people.”

I knew I had succeeded in keeping him from paddling me that day. But I knew he would try to think of some way to get me back.

Actually, Hippy and I got along just fine after that. As long as I reminded him about my little friend, he left me alone.

I still kept my eyes peeled, just in case he forgot.

posted by Dash | 10:30 AM | |

I got an e-mail from an old lawyer friend of mine yesterday. He lives in Lafayette, Louisiana which is slap dab in the middle of Cajun country. He told me all about a nutria hunt he went on Monday in the marsh.

He said, “Had the chance for a nutria hunt on Monday and after walking through the marsh for a couple of hours with 2 labs chasing nutria we finally ended up with 18 averaging about 10-12 lbs apiece. My partner is going to make nutria jerky and then deliver the tails to the state for $4 a piece. When was the last time you can remember paying $4 for a piece of tail? It probably came along with a pair of bright big yellow teeth to match!”

Nutria, otherwise known as Myocastor Coypus, is an animal that is not indigenous to the U.S., but was imported to Louisiana from South America for fur trading and to help keep the waterways clear of certain aquatic vegetation.

The nutria is a large semi-aquatic rodent similar to a beaver, but with a long hairless tail and bright orange teeth. Because they are such voracious eaters, nutria have caused extensive damage to the coastal marshes and associated waterways all along the Gulf Coast. Therefore, it’s understood why there’s a bounty on them.

As a kid, I remember walking along the bayou that bordered my grandfather’s farm and seeing dozens of the big rats. My grandfather said they were pests and wanted all of them gone. So, he would pay me a dollar per tail. If you didn’t mind fighting the snakes and poison ivy, a boy could make pretty good money as a bounty hunter. Hell, to me, it was a lot easier and more fun than hoeing weeds for a dollar an hour. He said back in the day, there was a market for the pelts, but it had dried up.

I had a .22 magnum and got to be a crack shot with that thing. The hard part was getting your hands on the little sucker once you shot him. They’re kind of like ducks. If you don’t kill him with the first shot, he’ll go hide under the holes he has made in the bank side. Sometimes you can get him out, others you never will.

Luckily we never encountered any alligators in that bayou, but today I don’t think I’d want to climb in there.

The restaurant industry says the meat from the nutria is delicious. They have been trying to get more people to try it for years, but most can’t get past the thought of eating what looks like a big rat. I’ve never tried it, but I might have to one of these days.

posted by Dash | 8:02 AM | |

I feel compelled to post an article written by Rick Reilly of Sports Illustrated. He details his experiences when given the opportunity to fly in a F-14 Tomcat. If you aren't laughing out loud by the time you get to "Milk Duds," your sense of humor is broken.

Shamelessly stolen from this morning's pile of unsolicited e-mail. Every now and then, a gem like this one comes along.

"Now this message is for America's most famous athletes:

Someday you may be invited to fly in the back-seat of one of your country's most powerful fighter jets. Many of you already have ... John Elway, John Stockton, Tiger Woods to name a few. If you get this opportunity, let me urge you, with the greatest sincerity...

Move to Guam.
Change your name.
Fake your own death!
Whatever you do Do Not Go!!!

I know. The U.S. Navy invited me to try it. I was thrilled. I was pumped. I was toast! I should've known when they told me my pilot would be Chip (Biff) King of Fighter Squadron 213 at Naval Air Station Oceana in Virginia Beach.

Whatever you're thinking a Top Gun named Chip (Biff) King looks like, triple it. He's about six-feet, tan, ice-blue eyes, wavy surfer hair, finger-crippling handshake -- the kind of man who wrestles dyspeptic alligators in his leisure time. If you see this man, run the other way. Fast.

Biff King was born to fly. His father, Jack King, was for years the voice of NASA missions. ("T-minus 15 seconds and counting ....." Remember?)Chip would charge neighborhood kids a quarter each to hear his dad. Jack would wake up from naps surrounded by nine-year-olds waiting for him to say, "We have a liftoff."

Biff was to fly me in an F-14D Tomcat, a ridiculously powerful $60 million weapon with nearly as much thrust as weight, not unlike Colin Montgomerie. I was worried about getting airsick, so the night before the flight I asked Biff if there was something I should eat the next morning."

Bananas," he said. "For the potassium?" I asked.

"No," Biff said, "because they taste about the same coming up as they do going down."

The next morning, out on the tarmac, I had on my flight suit with my name sewn over the left breast. (No call sign -- like Crash or Sticky or Leadfoot ... but, still, very cool.) I carried my helmet in the crook of my arm, as Biff had instructed. If ever in my life I had a chance to nail Nicole Kidman, this was it.

A fighter pilot named Psycho gave me a safety briefing and then fastened me into my ejection seat, which, when employed, would "egress" me out of the plane at such a velocity that I would be immediately knocked unconscious.

Just as I was thinking about aborting the flight, the canopy closed over me, and Biff gave the ground crew a thumbs-up. In minutes we were firing nose up at 600 mph. We leveled out and then canopy-rolled over another F-14.

Those 20 minutes were the rush of my life. Unfortunately, the ride lasted 80. It was like being on the roller coaster at Six Flags Over Hell. Only without rails. We did barrel rolls, sap rolls, loops, yanks and banks. We dived,rose and dived again, sometimes with a vertical velocity of 10,000 feet per minute. We chased another F-14, and it chased us.

We broke the speed of sound. Sea was sky and sky was sea. Flying at 200 feet we did 90-degree turns at 550 mph, creating a G force of 6.5, which is to say I felt as if 6.5 times my body weight was smashing against me, thereby approximating life as Mrs. Colin Montgomerie.

And I egressed the bananas. I egressed the pizza from the night before. And the lunch before that. I egressed a box of Milk Duds from the sixth grade. I made Linda Blair look polite. Because of the G's, I was egressing stuff that did not even want to be egressed. I went through not one airsick bag, but two.

Biff said I passed out. Twice. I was coated in sweat. At one point, as we were coming in upside down in a banked curve on a mock bombing target and the G's were flattening me like a tortilla and I was in and out of consciousness, I realized I was the first person in history to throw down.

I used to know cool. Cool was Elway throwing a touchdown pass, or Norman making a five-iron bite. But now I really know cool. Cool is guys like Biff, men with cast-iron stomachs and freon nerves. I wouldn't go up there again for Derek Jeter's black book, but I'm glad Biff does every day, and for less a year than a rookie reliever makes in a home stand.

A week later, when the spins finally stopped, Biff called. He said he and the fighters had the perfect call sign for me. Said he'd send it on a patch for my flight suit.

What is it? I asked.

"Two Bags."

posted by Dash | 7:27 AM | |

Since I grew up in south and central Louisiana I've heard my share of these jokes. Some are really good and some are really bad. You kinda have to understand the life of the typical Cajun to really get the full meaning of some of them, but most people tell them to each other in good fun.

I read something a while back about a guy who heard a voice in his head that told him to stop at the store and buy "one more" lottery ticket and wouldn't you know it... he won. Good thing he listens to that little voice.

My friend at Mostly Cajun tells some of these Boudreaux jokes from time to time. I think this one is pretty good.

Boudreaux's Trip to Vegas

Boudreaux gets home from work late one night and hears a voice in his head. The voice tells him, "Hey Boudreaux, quit your job, sell your house, take your money, go to Vegas." Boudreaux is very disturbed at what he hears and ignores the voice.

The next day when he gets home from work, the same thing happens. The voice tells him, "Quit your job, sell your house, take your money, go to Vegas." Again Boudreaux ignores the voice, though he is very troubled by the event.

Every day, day after day, for about four or three days, Boudreaux hears the same voice when he gets home from work, "Quit your job, sell your house, take your money, go to Vegas." Each time he hears the voice he becomes increasingly upset.

Finally, after two weeks, Boudreaux succumbs to the pressure. He does quit his job, sells his house, takes his money and heads to Vegas.

The moment he gets off the plane in Vegas, the voice tells him, "Go to Harrahs." So, he hops in a cab and rushes over to Harrahs.

As soon as he sets foot in the casino, the voice tells him, "Go to the roulette table." Boudreaux does as he is told.

When he gets to the roulette table, the voice tells him, "Put all your money on 17." Nervously, Boudreaux cashes in his money for chips and then puts them all on 17. The dealer wishes Boudreaux good luck and spins the roulette wheel.

Around and around the ball caroms. Boudreaux anxiously watches the ball as it slowly loses speed until finally it settles into number . . . 21.

"Damn, Boudreaux!," says the voice.

posted by Dash | 1:55 PM | |

This one's an oldie, but a goodie. No offense to my Yankee friends.


A very genteel Southern lady was driving across the Savannah River Bridge in Augusta, GA one day. As she neared the top of the bridge, she noticed a young man standing near the edge of the bridge getting ready (fixin') to jump.

She stopped her car, rolled down her window and said,"Please don't jump, think of your Mother and Father". He replied, "My Mom and Dad are both dead, I'm gonnajump".

She said, "Well, think of your wife and children". He replied, "I'm not married and I don't have any kids".

She said, " Well, then think of Robert E. Lee". He replied, " Who is Robert E. Lee?" She said, "Well just go on and jump then, you Yankee bastard!"

posted by Dash | 9:59 AM | |

Say that five times real fast. Heh.

For as long as I've been reading blogs, I've read untold numbers of complaints about spammers. I know comment spammers are different from the garden variety that anyone with an internet connection has come to know. But, regardless of the type, they are all considered to be the lowest possible life form in today's world.

The hatred I've heard is amazing. I'll never forget some of the lines. For example, one guy said, "If I saw one of those assholes, I wouldn't piss on him if his guts were on fire!" Now that's anger, boys and girls.

Well, it seems the people who can do something about it are getting mad, too. The headlines yesterday said that Texas Attorney General Greg Abbott filed the state's first anti-spamming lawsuit Thursday against a 23-year old University of Texas student whose unsolicited e-mails have earned him enough money to buy a $450,000 home in one of Austin's affluent neighborhoods.

Ryan Samuel Pitylak is far from being a "struggling college student," Abbott said in announcing the lawsuit, which will be heard in federal court.

Abbott said internet watchdog groups consider Pitylak and his California business partner to be the world's fourth-largest producers of e-mail spam, earning thousands of dollars a month by selling information obtained through replies.

Among the e-mail spam attributed to Pitylak are unsolicited offers to refinance your mortgage, extend your auto warranty, buy health insurance, or install a burglar alarm.

"We want to make it clear that these defendants we are suing today and any other illegal spammers in the state of Texas can't hide behind a computer screen any longer. We're going to take away every penny we can from these spammers."

Let's hope this is the beginning of something good.

posted by Dash | 8:30 AM | |

I was born on the Mississippi River in Baton Rouge. All of my family except one grandmother was from Louisiana. I lived more than half my life in Louisiana, but moved to Texas when the oil fields were booming back in the early '70's.

Since then I've lived back and forth several times between college and various jobs that required me to travel both states.

While I'm proud of my roots in the 'Bayou State", I'm just as proud to be called a Texan. I guess I can legitimately say I have dual citizenship.

Some people say I'm just confused, but that's an entirely different subject. Believe me.

Well, Acidman is serving up his usual heaping helping of caustic soda today about how "Texas is not a southern state."

What's with the cowboy hats? "Southern" is a cap that says "Red Man Chewing
Tobacco" on the front. Texas is a cowboy hat on a geek who rides computers for a
living and never saw a fucking cow in his life. He's gotta have those
roach-kicker boots, too. (You know.. the ones with the high heels and the pointy
toes, so you can kill a roach in the corner of the kitchen where no other shoe
will reach.) Don't forget the string tie and the rodeo belt buckle, which will
get you laughed clean out of any self-respecting Southern bar.

Man, does he think Texans don't wear baseball caps? Don't chew Red Man? Never saw a cow? Good lord, unless you're living in Houston or Dallas, I don't think you can go 3 minutes in Texas without seeing a cow. If you are in the city, you have to go 10 minutes sometimes before you see one.

Does he think we all ride horses to work? That's like saying all Floridians have alligators in their back yards. And I guess he doesn't like our choice of manly footwear. Hell, to me it's a bonus to be able to perform insecticide with a swift kick.

Does he think Texas wasn't in the Confederacy? If I remember my history correctly, Texas seceded not long after his beloved Georgia. We were there with ya, brother.

I think Acidman is just jealous. He just wishes he could have beef along with his pork barbeque while drinking tequila and doing the Texas Two Step with one of our millions of pretty wimmen.

I'll extend an invitation, Rob. If you want come on down to God's Country and find out what you're missing, I'll be your host. I'll treat you to some of the state's finest steak and I'll even throw in a Shine Bock or two. We'll hit Gruene Hall for some good Texas Country Americana music and watch some of the local talent tubing down the Guadalupe River.

As my Cajun friends would say, "Laissez les bon temps roullez." (Let the good times roll.)

Let me know when to expect you.

UPDATE: El Capitan has an excellent post on this subject. He's a native Texan and it shows.

posted by Dash | 7:26 PM | |

No, I'm not talking about post Civil War. I'm talking about the facelift of this site. I decided it was time to dress this place up a bit. The plain old blogspot template was okay, but I grew tired of it. Let's face it, it was boring.

I know Acidman just had a post expressing his disdain for such site improvements. But, I don't care. This is my site. If I want to have nekkid wimmen swinging from the title block, I'll do it. (Actually, he'd probably like that.) But, I don't tell anybody what to do with his or her site.

I tried to keep it fairly conservative while adding a few functions that I didn't have before. I liked the picture of the boiling bubbles, so I decided to make that the focal point. After all, this is The Boiling Point.

Thanks to those of you who have already commented. I appreciate the feedback.

A special thanks goes to Kimberly at Elegant Webscapes for the construction. She was great to work with on this. I'm sure she was ready for me to quit tweaking the fonts and colors, etc.

Now that the house is in order, let's get down to some blogging. I've enjoyed the short time I've been at this and I look forward to a lot more fun and adventure.

posted by Dash | 8:35 AM | |

“If you disagree with me on this, you’re just an idiot.” How many arguments end up with that statement being uttered? These days, my guess is, a lot. In fact, I'm sure I've been guilty of that myself. Sometimes you just can't understand how someone could disagree with you on certain things.

What has happened to the time when you could disagree with someone and not end up calling each other names? Have we become so divided that there’s no common ground in which to agree? Can’t we just agree to disagree sometimes?

Thomas Sowell has a good article today regarding this subject.

Too many people today act as if no one can honestly disagree with them.
If you have a difference of opinion with them, you are considered to be not
merely in error but in sin. You are a racist, a homophobe or whatever the
villain of the day happens to be.

Disagreements are inevitable whenever there are human beings but we
seem to be in an era when the art of disagreeing is vanishing. That is a huge
loss because out of disagreements have often come deeper understandings than
either side had before confronting each other's arguments.

There are a lot of people I admire for their viewpoints. Although I don’t always agree with them, the beauty is that I don’t have to agree with them on everything. The discourse can still be civil.

I read a lot of blogs and news articles from both the left and the right perspectives and quite frankly I’m turned off by both extremes. That doesn’t mean I can’t listen to their points (if any) and respectfully disagree.

Jack at Random Fate is someone I don’t always agree with. He calls himself a centrist and I tend to lean a little more to the right of him on most issues we face today. That doesn’t mean I think he’s absolutely wrong or is ill-informed or is an idiot. Quite the contrary – I think he is very thoughtful in his positions. I just tend to not agree with all of them.

One thing for sure is that he makes you think about what he thinks are important issues in today’s world. I assume that is his goal.

To be honest, my cynical side says we’re not going to see a subsidence of the divisiveness and vituperative bellyaching from both sides of the political spectrum any time soon.

I hope there will soon come a time when the two sides can come together in honest debate. Our future as a civilized world depends on it.

posted by Dash | 11:10 AM | |

This caught my attention. It seems a couple of guys were having some fun at the expense of some lawyers and were arrested. I guess the lawyers in New York don't appreciate that kind of humor.

Damn! They'd put me under the jail and throw away the key if they heard all the lawyer jokes I've told. I never knew they were so thin skinned... especially in New York. Hell, I thought Rudy set the standard up there.

I bet two of my friends (Jim and Christina) of the legal persuasion are laughing about this.

posted by Dash | 3:05 PM | |

Apparently, I've had it all bass ackwards. Dogs that get into the most trouble are the smartest ones.

That explains a lot. I've been training hunting dogs for years and I should have known the ones that I thought were the stupidest, were actually the smartest.

This article says that there is no such thing as a bad dog.

Known as "The Dog Listener", Miss Fennell says delinquent dogs are far from irredeemable: "The naughtier they are, the more intelligent they are and they aren't going to be pushed around by an idiot.

Damn! Now I know why my dog just doesn't get it when I try to teach him something new. Because I'm a blooming idiot. Of course... why didn't I think of that?

If these dogs are so smart, why don't they learn English and do what I tell them to do? Nevermind. Don't answer that. I can't even get my kids to do that and I know they understand English.

I guess at least now I have the understanding that when my dog is whizzing on the Persian rug and tearing my pillow to shreds, he's just showing me how brilliant he is.

posted by Dash | 9:57 AM | |

That 1 Guy at Drunken Wisdom has a funny post about his run-in with gonad biting insects. Yikes! Thanks for putting that image in my brain!

I live in Texas, but thank goodness I haven't seen the kind of infestation he describes. It sounds like a problem that could possibly be solved by Mr. Helpful.

Supposedly, the little buggers are Asian imports that have a defense response called "reflex bleeding" when threatened, that will cause some serious staining to your window dressing or whatever they happen to be crawling on at the time.

The article from Texas A&M University says they don't bite.

I think T1G would beg to differ.

posted by Dash | 9:26 AM | |

It just doesn't get any more American than that. I found two links today that I deemed note worthy. No, Dan Rather not getting fired didn't make my short list. I knew that wasn't going to happen.

The first one is about beer. It seems beer, every red-blooded American's favorite adult beverage is having an image crisis. Yeah, I like my scotch and the occasional tequila shot, but beer is a much revered staple in the Dash Cave. I just can't believe beer is losing ground to wine. Look for an even bigger onslaught of advertising. August Busch isn't going down without a fight.

Second one is from Mike Adams. He's on a PETA attack again. Damn, I'd hate to see his hate mail. He says that thanks to a PETA e-mail he got, he's going to buy a bunch of new guns. Go see the impressive list.

I already have several of those he mentions, but I'm thinking about getting a new .300 Win. Mag for next year's deer season. I want to be ready in case somebody invites me to go Muley or Elk hunting. The .270 Win. is fine for Whitetail, but the .3oo Mag would be the ticket for the big deer.

By the way, did I tell you I belong to PETA? Yeah... People Eating Tasty Animals. Heh.

posted by Dash | 3:20 PM | |

This just in -

The long anticipated, often immitated, never duplicated Silver Tongue Devil Awards (affectionately known as the STD's) have been announced. Yes, sports fans, RedNeck has graced the blogworld with his picks for this year.

A fine selection of winners were awarded in an esoteric ceremony to which only a few were honored to be able to attend.

RedNeck says:

Velociman (Kim) gets an STD, cause he uses sooo damned many words I don’t understand. And, he’s got his own mutant.

Acidman(Rob) gets an STD, cause he goes to Costa Rica and helps the locals in “his own special way". A true humanitarian and all around nice guy.

SWG(Eric) gets an STD, cause well, he’s my Scotch drinkin’ teacher and it all sounds good to the ‘Necktator after a few “lessons".

Yours truly was listed as an Honorable Mention along with several other (more than) worthy nominees. I am humbled just being mentioned in the same breath as these men.

Let me say Congratulations to the receivers of these STD's last night. It couldn't have happened to a more deserving trio.

Go by and check them all out before the euphoria wears off. You'll be glad you did.

posted by Dash | 11:12 AM | |

Well, it would appear that this site is still up and running even after the construction that occurred here yesterday. It was actually just some remodeling... no major structural work... mostly aesthetic in nature.

However, it was something I've been wanting to do for a while. I wasn't happy with the way blogspot handled the comments. A lot of people had to leave comments "anonymously" rather than register with the goofy blogspot server.

I asked Christina at Feisty Repartee how she liked the Haloscan and she said it was a lot better. Then, she even offered to help me out with the installation. When I asked if she knew what she was doing, she (with that eternal smile in her voice) said, "Sure, Key taught me how!"

There were a few times during the day that I wasn't sure I'd have a blog left after it was all said and done, but she came through like a champ. Now I have a much better setup.

Mad props to Christina and Key at Key Issues. You kids are awesome.

In layman's terms, "THANKS - from the bottom of my pea pickin' heart."

posted by Dash | 9:45 AM | |

To see if comments are now working

Chrissy at work...

UPDATE: The double comment issue appears to have resolved.

Just a question Dash: Did your site used to have "posted by Dash" and the time at which you posted? It doesn't now...I didn't think it was there before...Is that an oops?! Okay, that's two questions...

Chrissy signing off...

posted by Dash | 1:06 PM | |

After reading a story by Marcus at On the Patio, I remembered a story about an old boss of mine regarding his teenage daughter.

She was 14, a freshman in high school and a total knockout. She was about 5'-8" and was just starting to get that womanly shape that drives men crazy. Needless to say, all the high school boys were very interested in getting to know her.

One boy who happened to be a senior decided he was going to pursue her and started hanging around her house. Now he had heard that her father was a pretty tough old bird and the kid was smart enough to kind of keep his distance until the coast was clear.

My boss was about 6'-6", 250lbs, and tough as nails. He was known to have a temper and even the hard core construction workers in our company knew better than to jack with him. He was old school and would quite litterally kick someone's ass if they pissed him off. He wasn't a bully and didn't go out looking for trouble, but he sure wasn't afraid to take care of business if need be.

Well, he loved his daughter as any man would, but he was a little over-protective. I think one reason for this was that he remembered how he was when he was a teenager. That scared him enough by itself. Another reason was that his oldest son (18) had gotten his 16 year old girlfriend pregnant, so it would be a cold day in Hell before he let that happen to his little girl. As a father of girls, I have to say I agree with his thinking.

Sure enough he found out about the 17 year old lurker. One Friday night he hid out in his back yard waiting for this young tomcat to come calling on the daughter. You guessed it, Romeo came and angry father caught him. The kid knew to not try to fight. I hate to think what would have been the result of that.

The dad figured that he couldn't really get away with hurting the kid physically. He didn't want to go to jail for battery to a minor... as much as he wanted to beat the crap out of him and justified as it may have been. Also, he knew the kid's parents and he didn't want to get into a pissing match with them about where and when their son decided to travel around town looking for young nubile prey.

So, he decided to use the psychological route. Once he had the kid in his hands, he sat him down and told him (for about 30 minutes) just how much he loved his little girl and that there was nothing else in this world he really cared about. He said he would gladly go to any prison if he had to defend her honor and reputation. He told him, "Son, I have a gun and a shovel. I know places in the woods that no man has ever set foot before and a person's remains might not be discovered for 50 years. And quite frankly, I don't think anybody would really miss you for very long."

A funny thing... he never saw the kid again and never heard another word about him.

posted by Dash | 9:01 AM | |

The Texas Blogfest 2005 is coming up. It will be held in Dallas on March 18-20.

Thanks to El Capitan at Baboon Pirates for giving me the heads up... although I haven't yet heard if he's planning to make the trip north to his old stomping grounds for this occasion.

Click on the button on my sidebar to go to the official site and get updated info about specifics and to RSVP. I think a lot of the plans are still in the works, but it appears to be in quite capable hands.

I'm planning to make the trip and I see Marcus from On the Patio and Christina at Feisty Repartee have RSVP'd, too.

It should be a lot of fun. I'm looking forward to meeting a bunch of folks.

posted by Dash | 6:02 PM | |

Today Willie Nelson and friends are having a fund raiser concert in Austin to help out the tsunami victims. Tickets for the event sold out in less than seven hours and will generate an estimated $75,000 for the American Red Cross, UNICEF and CARE.

I guess Willie is the Texas energizer bunny. Even after recently being diagnosed with carpal tunnel in his left wrist and living more than 70 years, he can still muster the energy to put on a fund raiser for what he considers a good cause.

Remember when the farmers were having a rough time in America? It was Willie who orchestrated the many Farm Aid concerts to try to help the farmers. Even after he went bankrupt and was in to the government for millions in back taxes, he still had an extremely generous bent.

"There really are a lot of people who would like to do something," Willie said. "We're glad to offer those people opportunities to help out in different ways."

Today's event joins a slate of several concerts organized around the world. Performers include some Austin favorites such as Joe Ely, Bruce Robison, Kelly Willis, Patty Griffin and Ray Price.

It makes me proud to be an American and a Texan. I've been a fan of Willie Nelson for about 30 years and have seen him in concert too many times to count. Every time I see him, he gives the audience more than what they expected. Maybe that's why he has become an icon. A lot of people going through hard times use Willie as an inspiration.

Like Bruce Robison's song goes, "So when it's all coming down on you, you better ask yourself What Would Willie Do?

posted by Dash | 1:42 PM | |

The Irish daughter had not been to her parents' house for over five years. Upon her much anticipated return, her father cursed her. "Where in the world have you been all this time, you worthless ingrate? Why didn't you write or call us to let us know how you were doing? You could have at least sent a telegram! You little tramp! Don't you realize what torture you have put your Mum through?"

The girl crying, replied, "(Sniff, sniff) Father... I became a prostitute..."

"WHAT!!? Get the Hell out of my home, you shameless hussy!! You God forsaken sinner!! You're a total disgrace to this family. I'm ashamed to call you my own and I don't ever want to see you again. Be gone with you!"

"Okay, Father... as you wish. I just came by to give Mum this luxury fur coat, deed to a ten bedroomed mansion in the country, plus a savings account for five million pounds. For my little brother Liam, this gold Rolex watch, and for you Father the brand spanking new Mercedes limited edition convertible that's parked in the driveway, plus a lifetime membership to the country club. Oh.. and I wanted to extend an invitation to spend New Year's Eve aboard my new 100 foot yacht in the south of France, and..."

"Now what was it you said you had become, girl?"

Crying again, she said, "(Sniff, sniff) a prostitute, Father... (Sniff, sniff)"

"Oh, dear Lord, child. You scared me half to death! I thought you said you had become "a Protestant". Now, come over here and give your Daddy a big hug!"

posted by Dash | 2:22 PM | |

Mostly Cajun has a good post about his Uncle Pete walking on water when a snake fell into the boat with him. His story reminded me of a similar incident that happened to me when I was about 12.

My grandfather was a farmer and avid outdoorsman. If he wasn’t working, he was most often hunting, fishing, or cooking something he had grown, killed or caught. I don’t think there was anything he wouldn’t eat that didn’t eat him first.

During certain times of the year he liked to go out at night with a headlight and gig bullfrogs. In Louisiana where he lived there were untold numbers of places to go to find these critters and I’m sure he knew of every one of them. Another good thing was that he knew everybody in the parish and could easily get permission go on to somebody else’s property in pursuit of his quarry.

Why go after bullfrogs, you ask. Well, if you’ve ever tasted fried frog legs, I don’t have to explain. To me, it’s one of the true delicacies of this world. You fry them up just like chicken legs, but the meat is truly delightful.

Eating frog legs is one thing, catching them is something entirely different. Grandaddy had all the necessary equipment including an aluminum jon-boat, long gig poles, burlap sacks we called croaker sacks, and lights that we strapped to our heads so that we could see in the dark.

We could tell if we were going to find any frogs when we got there because we could hear them croaking. If you've never heard a bunch of bullfrogs croaking at night, you've really missed something special.

Once we got the boat out into the water we would shine our lights back toward the bank and look for their eyes. The glow of the frogs’ eyes could be seen from 50 yards away. So we would quietly paddle up to the eyes and gig the frogs before they could figure out what was going on. This is a blast if you get into a mess of frogs.

Well, I got pretty good at it and could easily gig two or three dozen frogs in a night – enough for a good meal. You just pull the pole back to the boat, then slide the frog off the gig and into the sack. You’re doing all this while you’re scanning for the next one. Sometimes you get so excited about going after the next one you don't really pay much attention to what you’re doing.

One time I’ll never forget was when I snagged a five foot snake instead. Hell, I thought it was a frog. Its eyes looked froggy. How was I to know it wasn’t a frog? When I got it up to the boat and flipped it in, I almost went over the other side. I can’t remember if I wet my pants or not, but it would have been justified. I’m not terrified of snakes, but when you’re not expecting it, it can be somewhat disconcerting. I think this was when my grandfather found out how many cuss words I knew.

My grandfather saw all this and immediately threw the serpent back into the water and somehow got it off the gig. I was still in shock and didn’t really care so much about how he did it. I was just happy he did. All I could think about was that thing slithering around in the bottom of the boat - with me in it.

After that he must have laughed all the way back home. He said, “I was wondering how long it was going to take for that to happen.” Apparently it wasn’t all that uncommon until you got really good at distinguishing the eyes between those of a frog and those of Mr. Cottonmouth.

All was well once we got home and fried up some of those tasty hind-quarters. But, as long as I live, I'll never forget the time I got more than I bargained for.

posted by Dash | 3:23 PM | |

A big city lawyer went duck hunting in South Louisiana. He shot and dropped a bird, but it fell into a farmer's field on the other side of a fence. As the lawyer climbed over the fence, an elderly farmer drove up on his tractor and asked him what he was doing. The litigator responded, "I shot a duck and it fell in this field, and now I'm going into retrieve it."

The old farmer replied. "This is my property, and you are not coming over here."

The indignant lawyer said, "I am one of the best trial attorneys in the U.S.
and, if you don't let me get that duck, I'll sue you and take everything you own."

The old farmer smiled and said, "Apparently, you don't know how we do things in Louisiana. We rule ourselves under the Napoleonic Code. We settle small disagreements like this with the Louisiana Three Kick Rule."

The lawyer asked, "What is the Louisiana Three Kick Rule?"

The Farmer replied. "Well, first I kick you three times and then you kick me three times, and so on, back and forth, until someone gives up."

The attorney quickly thought about the proposed contest and decided that he could easily take the old codger. He agreed to abide by the local custom.

The old farmer slowly climbed down from the tractor and walked up to the city feller.

His first kick planted the toe of his heavy work boot into the lawyer's groin and dropped him to his knees where he immediately vomited.

The geezer's second kick nearly ripped the man's nose off his face.

The barrister was flat on his belly when the farmer's third kick to a kidney nearly caused him to give up.

The lawyer summoned every bit of his dark heart, vengeful will and managed to get to his feet and said, "Okay, you old coot now it's my turn."

The old farmer smiled and said, "Naw, I give up. You can have the duck."

posted by Dash | 3:31 PM | |

In the spirit of the Auburn Tiger 2004 season, I’m declaring myself the national champion of college football. There will be rings, a ceremony, a logo, a parade, and a 25-year reunion with myself to reminisce about this national title winning season.

I'm more than happy to split with USC since I didn’t get my chance to play against the mighty Trojans. Maybe I’m not an actual football team and I didn’t get any votes in either poll, but I don’t care. I want to feel good about myself, so woo-hoo … I am the 2004 national champion.

Go ahead and declare yourself a national champion too. It’ll make your day.

posted by Dash | 2:41 PM | |

This is really starting to turn into a mess. First the criticism that America is “stingy”. Now the inept United Nations is taking over the relief effort.

Are we stingy? Of course not. Larry Elder gives us some facts regarding the generosity of the United States.

Last year, American government provided 35 percent of worldwide relief aid.
In private contributions, American individuals, estates, foundations and
corporations gave over $240 billion to charitable causes in 2003, according to
Giving USA Foundation. Privately, Americans give at least $34 billion
overseas.

Thomas Sowell points out that America is giving a lot more than money to the effort. The goods have to be delivered once they hit the airports.

It is American planes and helicopters that are doing much of the heavy
lifting, rushing food and medical supplies to people and rushing stricken people
to medical treatment centers.

The core group of nations that President Bush put together to deliver aid to the victims of the tsunami is being dissolved. All relief operations will now be taken over by the United Nations.

Now Kofi (and friends) will have billions of dollars to spend for tsunami relief and he wants the money now. The UN is demanding that the almost $1 billion of pledges be turned over to them. This is the same UN that bungled the Oil-for-Food program allowing millions to be skimmed off the top.

This means the $350 million that has been pledged by the U.S. will be in the control of the UN. I don’t know about you, but that doesn’t give me a good feeling.

Given this information, it’s now more important than ever to give to American charities like the American Red Cross.

posted by Dash | 11:36 AM | |

Hey, bloggers are good folks. Who knew?

This reminds me to recommend that if you are inclined to donate to disaster relief efforts, don't give any money to the United Nations or any of its agencies. With all that has been going on with the UN lately, do we really know where that money will go?

Instead give to an American charitable organization like the American Red Cross.

Blogs becoming big news sources during disasters

By The Associated Press(1/04/05 - NEW YORK) — The way Americans have
been getting their news online is changing fast -- and is likely to change even more because of the tsunamis in Asia.

A study shows that in November, more than a quarter of adults were reading so-called "blogs" -- online journals -- on their personal computers.

The number was just 17 percent in February, revealing how fast blogs have jumped in popularity.

The survey by the Pew Internet and the American Life Project indicates that many people started reading blogs during the presidential campaign.

Now, experts say blogs could become a serious factor in disaster relief for Southeast Asia. People can get video, commentary and other first-hand perspective on the tsunamis with just a click of their mouse.

Blogs have already become part of disaster relief, posting information about charities and missing family members.
(Copyright 2004 by The Associated Press. All Rights Reserved.)

posted by Dash | 11:00 AM | |

The Men of Troy (USC) are putting an ass whuppin' on the Sooners of OU. 55-10 in the 4th quarter.

The Sooners must be starting to feel like the Buffalo Bills after losing two straight championship games. Only two more to tie the Bills.

Update: Final Score 55-19 USC. Auburn will be No. 2.

posted by Dash | 8:47 PM | |

It has been a long time since I reached the legal drinking age, but I remember it being a special day. I was 18 years old. Old enough to vote, go to war and drink any damn thing I wanted to. And I did (drink that is).

On my 18th birthday, my grandfather broke the seal on an old bottle he had been saving for this auspicious occasion. He and I had a drink of straight bourbon to celebrate my entrance to adulthood. I’ll never forget that.

Then, over the years, states began changing their drinking age to 21. I was already over 21 by then, so I didn’t really care. But, I remember when people turned 21, it was time for a big celebration.

For those 20-year olds just waiting to be served that celebratory drink at 12:01 a.m. the day they turn 21, hold on a minute if you’re in Texas. A state lawmaker wants you to wait just a little bit longer.

House Bill 36, dubbed the “Cinderella Bill” would forbid the holder of a permit for the sale of on-premises alcohol consumption to sell or serve alcohol to people on the date they turn 21 before 7:00 a.m. on most days and noon on Sundays. A violation would be a Class A misdemeanor.

The idea behind changing the hour of service is to eliminate that trying-to-beat-the-clock mentality, which supposedly encourages binge drinking.

In my opinion, that’s ludicrous. If a kid wants to drink himself silly while celebrating his/her legal right to drink, making him wait until the next day isn’t going to make him/her drink any less. What? Do they think the kid is going to magically become more responsible in a few hours? Yeah, right!

Here’s another great one along the same line of thinking. House Bill 38 would limit the alcoholic content of drinks served to no more than ½ ounce of absolute alcohol. The legislator proposing this one says, “If you’re served a drink and just consuming that drink will get you legally drunk, I think they’re going beyond the scope of reasonable drinking”.

Does this guy think people are going to go into a bar to drink one ½ ounce drink and go home? I think not. They’re going to drink about three times as many as they would if they were drinking a regular drink. I don’t get it.

What it boils down to is some of our esteemed legislators feel compelled to write bills that cater to the personal wishes of some of their constituents.

Some mother’s kid drank himself to death at the stroke of midnight on the date of his 21st birthday. Now his mom wants to try to prevent this from happening to other kids in the same situation. So, she lobbies her local lawmaker to pass a bill to prevent this action.

I’m sorry to sound so callous, but if her son didn’t know that drinking 12 - four ounce shots in two hours would kill him, no law is going to save him. If that’s what he wants to do, what’s to keep him from buying a bottle at a liquor store and drinking the whole think in one sitting?

I’m not saying all 21-year olds have the same level of maturity and common sense, but where do we draw the line for personal responsibility? At 21 years, or at 21 years and 7 hours?

posted by Dash | 2:42 PM | |

Speaking of traveling, Miss Feisty has a great post about a road trip for bloggers. Go check it out.

I know plans are in the works for another Jawja Blogmeet, but this one sounds like it would be a blowout. Christina's creativity never ceases to amaze me.

posted by Dash | 2:30 PM | |

Now why do you suppose I thought of Eric of Straight White Guy when I read this?

Santiago - A Chilean man is a success in Santiago, where he transforms ordinary living rooms into pubs. Dennis Hennings' company sets up wooden bars with all kinds of drinks behind it in any living room. He also has bar staff and waiters to complete the party. Hennings told Las Ultimas Noticias: "The idea is for the owner of the house to relax and enjoy, he doesn't have to worry about anything when he calls us." - Ananova.com

... I wonder if they supply pool tables, too.

Then, I saw this one and thought... I've got to travel more.

Santiago - Twenty-eight Chilean women took all their clothes off in the middle of a busy road in Santiago to pay homage to a poet. The women posed in front of the house where famous poet Pablo Neruda used to live. Photographer Rene Alejandro Rojas took the picture, called Munvich, which means "naked" in an ancient Nordic language. Rojas told Las Ultimas Noticias newspaper: "We did not have a permit so they had to take their clothes off very fast and then put them back as fast." - Ananova.com

What? They didn't get a permit? Piss poor planning, I say.

posted by Dash | 1:30 PM | |

This stuff comes out every year, but I think it's somewhat interesting.

The year is 1905, one hundred years ago. What a difference a century makes! Here are some of the U.S. statistics for 1905:

• The average life expectancy in the U.S. was 47 years.
• Only 14 percent of the homes in the U.S. had a bathtub.
• Only 8 percent of the homes had a telephone.
• A three-minute call from Denver to New York City cost eleven dollars.
• There were only 8,000 cars in the U.S., and only 144 miles of paved roads.
• The maximum speed limit in most cities was 10 mph.
• Alabama, Mississippi, Iowa, and Tennessee were each more heavily populated than California. With a mere 1.4 million residents, California was only the 21st most populous state in the Union.
• The tallest structure in the world was the Eiffel Tower.
• The average wage in the U.S. was 22 cents an hour.
• The average U.S. worker made between $200 and $400 per year.
• A competent accountant could expect to earn $2000 per year, a dentist $2,500 per year, a veterinarian between $1,500 and $4,000 per year, and a mechanical engineer about $5,000 per year.
• More than 95 percent of all births in the U.S. took place at home.
• Ninety percent of all U.S. physicians had no college education. Instead, they attended medical schools, many of which were condemned in the press and by the government as "substandard."
• Sugar cost four cents a pound. Eggs were fourteen cents a dozen. Coffee was fifteen cents a pound.
• Most women only washed their hair once a month, and used borax or egg yolks for shampoo.
• Canada passed a law prohibiting poor people from entering the country for any reason.
• The five leading causes of death in the U.S. were: 1. Pneumonia and influenza 2. Tuberculosis 3. Diarrhea 4. Heart disease 5. Stroke
• The American flag had 45 stars. Arizona, Oklahoma, New Mexico, Hawaii, and Alaska hadn't been admitted to the Union yet.
• The population of Las Vegas, Nevada, was 30.
• Crossword puzzles, canned beer, and iced tea hadn't been invented.
• There was no Mother's Day or Father's Day.
• Two of 10 U.S. adults couldn't read or write.
• Only 6 percent of all Americans had graduated high school.
• Marijuana, heroin, and morphine were all available over the counter at corner drugstores.
• According to one pharmacist, "Heroin clears the complexion, gives buoyancy to the mind, regulates the stomach and bowels, and is, in fact, a perfect guardian of health."
• Eighteen percent of households in the U.S had at least one full- time servant or domestic.
• There were only about 230 reported murders in the entire U.S.

There were no PC's and certainly no bloggers. Most people had to communicate with a No. 2 pencil and a Big Chief Tablet, and send a letter in the mail.

As my friend Jim at Parkway Rest Stop would say, "That's farookin unreal!" Velociman would tell me that even the Mutant knows that heroin is good for the complexion. Acidman would say, "People died from diarrhea? My Aching Ass!"

posted by Dash | 11:44 AM | |

Well, I made it back from my hunting trip in one piece. I didn't bring home any venison this time around, but I had a great time, anyway. Besides... I already have more venison in the freezer than I know what to do with. It's been a good year.

It was good to be able to hit the woods for a few days to recharge the batteries. That's a good thing considering I have to go back to the ole Real World tomorrow... back to the grindstone as it were.

While perusing some of my usual blogsites when I got back home, I ran across one by Og at Neanderpundit about him going four years now without smoking. I thought that was admirable and all, but I was a little surprised by his reason for quitting. He quit because the damn things got to be too expensive.

That got me thinking about "Sin" taxes. Anytime the great minds that are called legislators in my great state of Texas decide they need more money and don't want to go through the debating about where the money will come from, they go after such things as cigarettes, liquor and topless bars. After all, who would complain about the prices on these things going up?

I'm sure every state is going through the same budget shortfalls mine is, but our governor, Rick Perry has decided we're going to get extra money for the schools from even more taxing of these sins.

So, if you want to be a good Texan and support your school districts, stop on your way home from work to buy an extra carton of smokes and a 12 -pack of suds. If you have a little extra time before you have to be home, stop at your local titty bar for a couple of lap dances. If your wife questions what your doing, just tell her, "Honey, it's for the children."

posted by Dash | 5:39 PM | |