Innocent Bystanders

Ames, IA, and Iowa State University, the alma mater of a certain fella we know, has determined that the weight of kegs hitting the sidewalk is a major problem. In fact, the sidewalks near an area where many bars are located and the required beer distributors unload their liquid goods are becoming cracked and damaged.

So, how did Ames overcome this dilemma, without disrupting vital beer supplies?

Why, they made rubber sidewalks!

The city of Ames is installing a rubber sidewalk at a spot near the Iowa State University campus where beer distributors unload hundreds of kegs from trucks for area bars.

The heavy kegs have been cracking the concrete pavement. So officials have decided to install sidewalk pavers made by a California company using recycled tires.

The city’s streets supervisor tested the project by taking a sledge hammer to it. The new sidewalk didn’t even dent.

Apparently, the sidewalks also saved a bunch of tires from being burned. But who cares about that? Beer supplies will continue unabated.

Yesterday was quite the day. After coming home from 90 Degree/90% Humidity T-Ball for my daughter in the morning, it was off to Grant’s Farm for a birthday party for a friend’s daughter. Thankfully, the party was in a pavilion, so we were out of the sun for the most part. But it was still hotter than shit. And to make things better, the party pavilion was next to the area where people can feed the camels. Nothing makes cake and ice cream taste better than the whiff of two camels nearby.

But Grant’s Farm, being (for now) part of the Anheuser-Busch family, does have one thing going for it: the hospitality tent gives out free beer! Even if it is A-B products, free is free. Anyway, the highlight of the party for me was the beer. And this camel thought so as well:

Did I mention it was really hot yesterday?

Well, after the party, I stopped at the gun store nearby to pick up some cleaning equipment for the rifle I currently own, and scouted own my next purchase. I want to buy something fairly easy to maintain, smaller than the Soviet rifle I own, and not very expensive, both in the firearm and the ammunition. I have narrowed it down to a Ruger .22 pistol, or a .38 Revolver.

I concede that I will probably never need to mow down grizzly bears, zombies, rampaging yeti, or the bad guys from the Star Wars movies. As a result, a hand cannon or another big rifle seem too much for me. Besides, I can’t justify right now dropping a ton of money on a piece I would (hopefully) never have to use in the heat of action, and take to a range once in a while. So, that is why I am leaning toward a .22. Between my rifle and a .22, I believe I would have enough to defend myself and something as valuable as my Val-U-Rite Vodka.

Well, I really screwed up the last post I did. But seriously, who hasn’t confused Berlin, CT with Berlin, Germany?

Anyway, here a few more things to be thankful for as we start another week of work:

Rosario Dawson hosing herself off. Seriously, who cares why.

Packers Fans taking Brett Favre’s situation in an understated manner.

Somebody else hates commercials as much as I do.

Most people merely dislike commercials. I fucking HATE them. I loathe them with all the bile in my bloated liver. Hatred for ads is embedded in my marrow, programmed into my DNA, woven into the fabric of my soul.

That’s why the people who invented TiVo/DVR and satellite radio are gods. They have golden thrones reserved in heaven, while advertising fuckfaces like Big Daddy Drew will burn for all eternity because they profited from making everyone else’s life just a little bit more miserable. Ever written a jingle? Die. And then say hi to Hitler for me.

Leopard Vs. Crocodile.

And finally, I have a new addition to the house. My latest arrival is called Mosin-Nagant 7.62, and it will defend the home well. Also, the fucker is so heavy, I could just use it as a club if necessary. I had a photo of the rifle, but the Kodak Easy Share Program on my computer ate the photo. So, I have to settle for this video:

Meet Ezra Welch, a 40-year-old guy living in Berlin. He loves Batman so much, he has dedicated everything in his life to the caped crusader.

The collection is a diverse one, ranging from framed movie posters to a utility belt and even a large ceramic cookie jar shaped like Batman. He has even deemed one corner of the collection a “Rogues Gallery” and uses it to showcase Batman’s foes.

Welch, who works at Precision Graphics in East Berlin, doesn’t know exactly how much he has spent on his collection over the years but estimates it is at least $5,000, maybe even $10,000.

Even with all the money he has spent, he says his favorite item didn’t cost him a thing.

“It’s a Batrock,” he says, pointing to a chunk of stone he got during a visit to the cave used to film part of the 1960’s “Batman” TV show that starred Adam West. “It’s from the Batcave. I don’t know if anyone else has something like this.”

Wow. And like all Batman fans, he seems to relish wearing the costume at the wrong and inappropriate times.

Occasionally he will even don a full-size Batman costume, though he prefers to do it to mark special events; one photo on the wall of the “Batcave” features him, fully-costumed, kissing his wife in front of their Christmas tree.

Yeah, but does he molest retired stagehands while wearing it?

Back when I was in undergrad and sometimes coherent, I all but lived on Hot Pockets. That lava hot cheese. That ambiguous “meat”. That funky sleeve thingy. All for $1.50 for two of them. That meant more money for alcohol, so you know, being the Biz School man I was, I allocated my resources properly and filled my freezer with Hot Pockets so that the essentials would be perpetually handy. And that fucking do-gooder down the hall complaining of the smell and flatulence? Go bite my ass, fuckface! I’m eating and boozing and getting laid. And you?

*ahem*

Anyway, I read with much sorrow today that there has been a recall of a shitload of LeanPockets, the “diet” spinoff of HotPockets.

About 200,000 pounds of the products, a spinach artichoke chicken package with two sandwiches, are affected.

This prompted a recall of the greatest stand up skit not featuring the late George Carlin (PBUH):

Anyway, what’s a lad to do while waiting out the recall? Here are a few suggestions:

Ponder whether or not Batman could really exist.

What’s most plausible about portrayals of Batman’s skills?
You could train somebody to be a tremendous athlete and to have a significant martial arts background, and also to use some of the gear that he has, which requires a lot of physical prowess. Most of what you see there is feasible to the extent that somebody could be trained to that extreme. We’re seeing that kind of thing in less than a month in the Olympics.

Thanks to Wisergenius for the above.

Go out and exercise.

Steve Striker of Edwardsville planned to eat at least 24 doughnuts. He was working on 20 doughnuts when he reached the Worden pit stop.

“I don’t think I’ll make my goal. It’s tough to hold it back now,” Striker said as he was shoving five doughnuts into his mouth.

First-time participant Blake Stevens of Edwardsville said the ride was fun.

“I got to see some guy puke after eating 25 doughnuts, so that was interesting,” Stevens said.

Cope with the InBev buyout of A-B:

Q: What should I drink instead?

A: You have several options. You can drink Miller Lite, which is fucking terrible. You can also drink Coors Light, which is also fucking terrible. But at least Coors Light is an offical sponsor of the NFL. Also, when you open a Coors Light, a big fucking silver train comes from out of nowhere! And you can see your breath! And girls with big tits show up out of thin air! Awesome.
…
Whatever you do, DO NOT drink any Belgian beer. Belgium is renowned for making delicious dubbels and trappist ales that make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. THIS IS A TRAP. It’s right there in the name: “trap”pist. You know who makes those beers? Bloodthirsty Belgian monks, who employ the beer as a sedative before FUCKING THEIR VICTIMS UP THE ASS. You keep that Chimay away from my family, you perverts.

Or, you could engage in some “bonding” with the USC Football Team.

You could drive scooters in Columbus, OH (I hear that is popular with some on this site).

It’s difficult to get an exact estimate as to how many scooters are being operated around the city, but some estimates are as high as 3,000.

“With the fuel injection engines, it should get about 100 miles per gallon under normal use,” Beam said.

But there are drawbacks.

Scooters are now mixing into the flow of traffic.

Dave Hughes and his wife have started riding scooters to and from work.

“It’s more of a respect thing and ‘you’re in my way kind of thing,’” Hughes said.

But as the price of gasoline remains high, scooters may not always be the vehicles that are “in the way.”

“We’ve been absolutely inundated (with a) 35 scooter backorder right now,” Beam said.

With a higher demand than supply, Central Ohioans should expect to see more and more of them as more are built and available.

Or, you could hang out with some Canadian Football Cheerleaders.

Folks, the choice is yours. Choose wisely.

Our pal Muslihoon has a big date tonight, and Demone is here to help.
 

Save the Led Zep for the 3rd date.  Everything else applies.

Good luck, we are all counting on you. 

Senior representative from the Sudan People’s Liberation Front pledges to wear ridiculous hat for the duration of the crisis.

“All your bitches are belong to us!”

While I was taking a break from yard-work today, my neighbor’s teen-aged son strolled around a tree in his backyard, sat down, and sparked up a bowl.   I was sitting on my front porch, across the street.  He was not trying to be furtive or stealthy, he was singing a rap song to himself pretty loudly,  and sitting on a corner of a busy street, with pedestrians and traffic going by fairly often. 

The only secreative part of his behavior was that he was hidden from his own house by the trees.  I know he saw me; after I realized what he was up to, I cleared my throat loudly, and stood up.  He looked at me…tapped out his bowl,  and started to pack a new one.  Kid’s got some brass ones.  I’d guess he’s 16 or 17. 

I went inside and got my camera, then sat down and took this picture from my first vantage point on my porch.  I’d say he was about 250 feet away.  (You can still see him in the picture, he went back to his own yard and was talking on the phone.)  

 I don’t know this neighbor, we’ve never met.  Should I:

A) Nark him out to his mom, knowing full well that he will blame me.

B)  Talk to him, ask him to not smoke pot where I can see him, ’cause drugs are bad, m’kaaay?

C)  Do nothing, he is practically an adult.

D)  Other

***Update #2***

I don’t know, skinbad….  

*pokes book club with a stick*

It might be dead.  

Has anybody who is not an ancient crocodile deity read this book?  I have the ultimate discussion question to ask, but I don’t want to spoil the ending for those who are still enthralled by the monumental literary masterwork of our generation.  

Where do we stand, dear readers? 

(Original post and update 1 below the fold)

(more…)

Houston, we (may) have a problem.

Commenting is down, as far as I can tell, since @4:30 PM EST Friday.  

I’m sure WP has top men working on it. 

Or I’m banned.   I blame George Bush, and the higher math humor in the Happy Pi Day! thread.

I’ll just hush now.

I can’t help noticing that we are now averaging about 4,500 page views per day. I would like to take this opportunity to invite the lurkers to breifly remove their cloaking device and tell us a little about themselves. We are an amiable bunch here and will not use the occasion to humiliate anybody. Please briefly answer the following questions:

1. On the off-chance you have some semblance of a life, what do you do for a living?

2. Once you’ve mastered a 4th grade reading level what will be your next goal in life?

3. Who is your favorite IB man/woman/Rosetta? Would you admit this to your mother?

4. If you had it all to do over again would you still huff paint?

5. Whats the difference between Laura Ingraham and a 105 lb. bag of cow manure?

Thanks for your patronage! Come again.