That Other Blog and My Daughter Almost Dying

I'm sorry that I've let this go. It will come back in the next few weeks.

I don't know if you've seen my newest blog about my separation, but I ask you to check out my latest post at least. It's scary but with a hopeful ending, and the most important thing that has happened to me in the last few years.

Politics and van murals will resume next week.

Thanks.

Your Baby (Phone) Can Swear!

Let's take a break from politics and have a delicious laugh, shall we? The guy I got this from on Facebook had it titled "There must be 3 guys in a pub working on stuff like this full time." Absolutely.

Motherlover - Lonely Island

Happy Early Mother's Day!



Susan Sarandon & Patricia Clarkson, well, they are totally hot...

Dear Sophie - Chrome Commercial

Saw this on TV just now and kinda lost it. Jesus, man.



Told you.

Yelowjackets: This is How We Do It In Ohio

So you've got a yellowjacket nest, hrm? Looks like Ricky Shambles needs to do some schooling so ya don't hurt yerself (based on true events).



Yellowjackets are NOT bees. They are yellow and black and fly and sting, but they are wasps (sting multiple times), terribly ornery, and tend to make their nests in the ground.

When I was 8, I was standing on a railroad tie in our backyard like I'd done hundreds of times before to get some water from the spigot. Suddenly I was being stung multiple times in the legs, straight through my knee-high striped baseball socks. Screaming ensued. Then calming. Then Grandpa and Dad went to work.

Observe
My daughter found the nest, smack in the middle of the yard. Luckily for us we did not learn that day whether she shares her mother's toxic reaction to stings.

So keep back and spend some time observing. Yellowjackets sometimes have a secondary, back door to their nest. When you attack, you will want to know if that is a potential.

NOTE: If the nest is out of the way, it's up to you if you want to eliminate it. If it is near the end of summer, you may want to leave it alone either way - this is when they go batshit crazy in a last-gasp effort to gather food.

Buy Death in a Bottle
Best stuff from what I could find online is a powder that spreads. But for my money, I like the immediacy of an expanding foam - two cans please.

Wait Until Night
Yellowjackets are active during daylight hours and as the night gets cool, they hunker down and go mildly dormant. If you're lucky enough to get an evening when the temp drops below 50F, the buggers will have a hard time even flying - if they get a chance to get out.

Suit Up
It was warm, but I put on thick socks and tucked jeans into my Harley boots, tucked my thickest Guinness hoodie into the jeans, and tightened that hood. That image is yours to play with, but the electronic copy (procured by my daughter) will not be available for viewing.

Attack
I hovered for a bit, awaiting any sign of movement or activity. There was none. I was alone. I had both cans shaken and to the side. I moved quickly and decisively at the hole (about as wide as my thumb), held the nozzle close and sprayed. Within a couple seconds the foam had rapidly expanded and was coming out of the hole, but I kept steady, aimed straight. When the first can sputtered, I hit it with the second, keeping a close eye on the expanding foam bubble for any signs of a superbug of some sort making a break through the foam.

But there was nothing. No movement. Not even any buzzing when I was done. They appeared to be gone.

Set That Shit On Fire
When I was stung as a kid, it had been on a Saturday. I remember that because that night my father and grandfather hosed that nest. The next morning, after church, we stood outside and watched Dad kick over that railroad tie to reveal the nest underneath. A couple 'jackets lay dead beside it. He walked back to the garage and returned with a gas can. After a fair amount of pouring, he lit a match and we watched it burn, standing there before the small fire in our church clothes.

I joined my father in this tradition at 6am the morning after my own foamy attack. Treading carefully I quickly observed there was no movement or activity. I poured some gas down the hole and lit the emerging fumes.


(I know, it looks like JFK's Eternal Flame.)

After a few minutes and a visible spread of glowing orange below the grass that was beginning to smoke profusely, it was obvious I had been over-zealous in the application of gasoline. I batted the fire out with my broom and returned to the house, feeling proud, feeling part of a legacy, and damn ready for some breakfast.

Ass Kicking Machine

24

Created by OnePlusYou - Free Dating Sites

(h/t Calvin for the link!)

Obama Makes a Stand to Help Teen Pregnancy

Found at Think Progress:

Keeping with a campaign pledge “not continue to fund abstinence-only programs,” President Obama’s 2010 budget — further details of which were released today — cuts funding for “Community-Based Abstinence Education” and several other abstinence-education programs

Finally, someone who understands that "Just Say NO" doesn't work.

Thank you President Obama for killing stupidity.

Parenting Adventures - Who's the Adult?

Let's just get this over with. Little Shambles is no longer little and turns 13 in a month, so she will be henceforth referred to as the Irish Dancer as that is the closest thing to a passion she currently has developing in her life. We shall never speak of this again.

So Sunday morning found us at The Original Pancake House in Montgomery where they have enormous, delicious omelets like you've never seen or experienced before unless you've been to The Original Pancake House. It was a good meal with the family and after we paid I walked out into the foyer and, in attempt to embarrass the Irish Dancer - a fine pastime of mine - stated in an impaired voice "Yeah, I like Spongebob too!"

The Irish Dancer looked at me with overtired tween disdain, huffed, and said "What does that have to do with anything. We were talking about dicks."

Of course, what she actually said, having been mid-conversation with Mrs. Shambles about softball, was "We were talking about Dick's [Sporting Goods]."

But I laughed. Hard. I laughed all the way to the car and I laughed all the way home and chuckled out loud several times for the rest of the day. She had said it with such conviction and fervor.

So last Sunday, the Irish Dancer learned that men will laugh at jokes like they are twelve years old, pretty much until we die.

Fielding Oral Sex

Today (names have been changed to protect the absurdly under age):

Little Shambles: There's a rumor going around about Bob and Sally, but I don't think it's true.

Me: Yeah?

LS: Yeah, everyone's talking about it.

Me (throwing out the inevitable): Is it that they're having sex?

LS: No, people are saying Sally gave Bob a blow job and I totally don't think it's true.

Me: Wow. Well remember that if you ever have any questions....

LS: I know, Dad.

Synopsis: My daughter is in 7th grade and today was the first time I've ever heard her say "blow job."

**shivers**

Real Life Parenting - Trannies

Little Shambles: You know X's mom is a lesbian?
Me: Yeah, you kind of told me that twenty times ago.
LS: Her mom's got a boyfriend.
Me: Hu-huh?
LS: He's one of those trans-genders, so he's really a lady.
Me: Uh-huh.

It only hit me later: is he really a male transing to female or a female transing to male?

Either way, it doesn't matter, and I'm kind of proud; my daughter didn't freak the hell out and raise an alarm. She just mentioned it casually. And I guess that makes me proud not just of her but of myself and Mrs. Shambles; we've fostered a open comfort level that allows our daughter to talk about trans-sex individuals without freakout "they're the devil" or other hate language.

Whew! I need a beer. Oh, there you are!

Veep Debate: On a Parental Note...

Forgot to bring up this point last week:

I realize that the knee-jerk reaction of the of the right wing at the end of the VP debate made a quick transition from "Woot woot woot, she didn't shit the bed!" to "Awww, she brought da baby!"

Quick question popped up in my head: "What the fuck kind of parent are you to haul a special needs kid out on national stage at 11pm?"

Answer: A shitty one, playing politics with children.

Ancient Chinese Secret ...for Destruction and, Apparently, Patriotism

Wait, what was I writing about?

Oh, yeah, let's try this:



From those lovely Brits at the Telegraph:

Satellite imagery, passed to The Daily Telegraph, shows that a substantial harbour has been built which could house a score of nuclear ballistic missile submarines and a host of aircraft carriers.

In what will be a significant challenge to US Navy dominance and to countries ringing the South China Sea, one photograph shows China’s latest 094 nuclear submarine at the base just a few hundred miles from its neighbours.

Other images show numerous warships moored to long jettys and a network of underground tunnels at the Sanya base on the southern tip of Hainan island.

I shouldn't have to say this, but there are many, many ignorant "I'm a victim" folks out there, and apparently the Chinese are just as good at misplacing aggression as rednecks are: the following tirade is focused at the powers that be, the oppressive government of China, primarily, that has nothing to do with the Chinese people, who should overthrow their oppressors.

So...Aside from the obvious arch-villain mastermind cave lair issue, let's go over the political basics one more time:

• China fucking owns us because they own a sick amount of our debt. They could shake their money-maker and cause a dip in the Dow. They shuck poison toys, smirking as they shake our hands with shit, smeared in their palms, mouthing "Whatcha gonna do?" all the while eying the vice in which they have out balls clamped.


• China has one man and one woman available for military service for every American alive. Let me say that in another way: China's standing potential army (age 18-49) is well over twice the population of the entire U.S.A., all ages. Those fit for service are just under "twice."


• Based on past diplomatic efforts of the past eight years, China can deal with Russia. Russia can deal with Iran. Iran can deal with China. Iran can deal with Venezuela. Iran can deal with North Korea. Russa can deal with North Korea. They're all kind of buddies in that they think we need to be taken down a peg.


• We really don't want to talk to any of them.

Here's a reminder in the form of a delicious Photoshop I put together a little less than a year ago:



Everyone's heard the phraseology of "America the Bully." True dat. But our world, the playground, if you will, has recently seen some kids bulk up. And they're all talking in the corner. They may not have the abilities or the technology or the know-how on their own, but they can MacGyver it if they needed to, and together the numbers are in their favor.

And the US is just kind of mindlessly, dreamily staring at the sandbox. Invested, he'd whisper, were he asked.

And it has suddenly become very quiet, but US doesn't really notice.

So when the beatdown comes, we know who'll throw the first couple punches. But when US is bent over a little, when those accosting have proven weakness beyond a reasonable doubt, who else will join in? Who will come out of the woodwork? Who else will align with a potential "new bully?" Who else will come out with baseball bats or sticks or hat pins to give a whack "because it's about time?" or "just because?"

(pause)
I think the more frightening, "reality" question is: should this paranoid thought experiment play out as proposed, how would I react? I complain about America and I try to better America and I write and I vote and I participate in activism when possible and I do all these things because I do love and want to protect the freedom to do these things of which I speak.

So if America was the object of a military, world-wide, gang rape, would I leave my wife and daughter and take all my tech savvy and voice and passion and intelligence and potential firearm acuity and strap one on and blow the fuck out of anything that actually threatened this country and all that it stands for? To make this world safe for my daughter to blog and piss and moan about what's wrong with America?

You bet your ass I would.

Just like if the zombies attack.

Fuck. I think I just got all patriotic. And maybe emotional. Not to worry; it's a feeling, not a flag or a pin or a gun, so few will actually recognize it.

Shit, I've got to get a gun.

Let's just keep this between us.

Children Blind to Color

In one of those moods. Today, this actually made me cry.

Mike Church - Brainwashing Kids, Blatant Lies

Sirius Radio has given me new perspective on the horrors of right wing talk shows. First it was Andrew Wilkow. I can almost stomach the whole show. Now...

Right wingnut radio neo-con, Mike Church - also known as "King Dude" because of an apparent unhealthy love affair with "The Big Lebowski" but ironically looks like every other straight-laced repub - was spouting flat earth global warming "myth" garbage and bragging about how well-versed his daughters are in the mythos of global warming caused by the proximity of Earth to the sun on Thursday.

Specifically, he talked to his daughters about how the lumber industry is doing the world a great service because if they didn't cut down those trees, those trees would grow old and dry out and die. Or some shit. He went on to say that because of hippie lawsuits, the lumber market is suffering, and that the folks on the show "Ax Men" on the History Channel are actually Canadians because they couldn't find any Americans who were loggers anymore.

Couple things, Mike:

1. Cutting down trees kills those trees. As you stated, those trees are reseeded. This is not a "natural process." Lightning and fires and decay are.


2. The lumber market is suffering because of the failure of the housing market which was artificially inflated by rich, white repub bankers.


3. The History Channel show "Ax Men" features American loggers logging in the American Pacific Northwest. Take two seconds not to sound like a boob.

Oh, Jesus, he just said the Liberals demanding religious tolerance in Tibet have no desire to extend the same tolerance to Mormons here in America. If he's referring to the recent spat in Texas where over 300 kids were taken into custody, Mike must be equating under-age sexual abuse - rape - to something that lives in the realm of acceptable religious practices. For someone with an 11 year old daughter, he should be ashamed.

I could write all day on this, but listening to him spew verbal diarrhea, yelling over the callers, putting everyone on defensive because of a perceived level of intelligence, and showboating musical parody as high comedy is giving me an ulcer.


UPDATE: 2 years later, I've been noticed by Mike Church. Read the comments here, then go to the modern post.

The Most Spoiled Girl in the World

Yes, this is real. I guess my daughter's not even close to spoiled.

Sesame Street: Back in the Day

Subway!

Virginia Heffernan has an excellent piece in the NY Times about Volume 1 and 2 of "Sesame Street: Old School" being released on DVD, focusing primarily on how non-PC those original episodes were, and how those characters got from there to where we can still see them today (e.g., Snuffleupagus could be seen by everyone in 1985 as not to exacerbate Big Bird's condition into full-blown mental illness).

What they did to us was hard-core. Man, was that scene rough. The masonry on the dingy brownstone at 123 Sesame Street, where the closeted Ernie and Bert shared a dismal basement apartment, was deteriorating. Cookie Monster was on a fast track to diabetes. Oscar’s depression was untreated. Prozacky Elmo didn’t exist.

The only part of the article that didn't ring true to the spirit was a single snippet on the first page:

Live-action cows also charge the 1969 screen — cows eating common grass, not grain improved with hormones. Cows are milked by plain old farmers, who use their unsanitary hands and fill one bucket at a time.

The point of running through the grocery list of "atrocities" was to show how PC we've become, but the single farmer's careful handling his organic milk is something that rings PC/"social conscious" true in the light of today's Big Box stores and farm factories.

Excuse my literary nitpicks. Read the article. It's worth the walk down memory lane and stuffed full of things I was never aware of concerning a show that helped me grow, read, write, and eventually become this blogger that you're reading right now.

Dad. Kid. Coke. Mentos.

I spent too much time watching videos today. Yes, I would probably do this too.


Dad Puts Mentos In Coke Bottle - Watch more free videos

How To: Keep Your Bitches in Line

Because today's a little loopy, crackhead day (see: President Bush pisses off China and makes the Democrats smile by giving the Dali Lama a medal 'n' shit), I thought I'd include this bit I caught on G4TV.com:



Hellz yeah.

Saturday Whimsy: Scrips and ICUP

As I am not the invincible, indelible Übermensch that some readers may think I am (only on alternating Tuesdays), I thought I'd allow this little peek into my personal world. I have allergies. All of them. No food, no drug, but anything that produces pollen, dust, mold, or the salivary proteins on the dog and cat dander makes the underside of my chin itch, then sneezing, then watering, then misery (39/41 on the allergist scratch test - isn't that an A?).

Last trip to the allergist, I got a prescription that had this line (yes, they print them out now, oh heavenly technology):



I somehow don't think Mrs. Shambles will be pleased by the results of my rescue inhaler.

And then there's this wonderful bit of gas station drugstore merriment:



"What the hell is that?" you ask. Obviously, it's a drinking cup. Please allow me to elucidate:



Yes, it is, in fact, an envelope posing as a water-carrying device. It's "Another Innovative Idea for the 'People on the Go.'"

I don't know what marketing douchebag maintained a paycheck based on the idea of including an envelope with the overpriced allergy pills (alas, it was gas station Sudafed - not the good kind - that delivered to me that paper joy) when anyone with two hands can cup a gulp of water from the gas station sink (eww, I know) to take their meds, and anyone without two hands can't open the damn envelope (let alone the Sudafed packaging), and even if they do, how do they hold the envelope open if they don't have another hand to turn on the faucet?

As someone once said, these are the things I think about when I'm alone in the dark (reference needed).

Stupid allergies.

Beckett for Babies