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Self-Deprecating and Possibly Humorous Morning Anecdote January 17, 2018

Posted by skinbad in Lurkers, Music, Nature Shit, Obama's Legacy, Personal Experiences, Privacy.
5 comments

So, I was in the shower this morning. The Mrs had done her morning ritual and was out and on to the kitchen activities. I believed I had the room to myself. Then, unexpectedly, I made a . . . sound. It was surprising in both volume and duration. I almost burst out laughing, but caught myself when I heard my wife’s voice say, “Need more conditioner?” I looked down at the nearly-empty conditioner bottle (nowhere near me) and said, “sure.” Momentarily, a new bottle was pushed around the shower curtain. I took it with a “thanks.”

Let’s just keep this between fake internet friends, OK?

I’m still alive August 27, 2017

Posted by digitalbrownshirt in Family, News, Personal Experiences.
6 comments

20170812_16462520170812_164552Not much time to post, I’ve been home for the first time in over a month and over the weekend spent less than 24 hours total at home because when you’ve been gone that long there’s always a crap load of stuff that needs doing. Here’s a picture I got somewhere down around Virginia. If I remember correctly we were at a brake check parking lot at the top of 5 miles of 6% grade hauling 45,000 pounds. It was pouring rain hard enough to force us to pullover at one point by the time we got the bottom of the mountain. It was actually the day that whole antifa vs skin heads thing happened. As we rolled through I noticed police and fire trucks posted at every on ramp and off ramp. I’m guessing to prevent blocking the freeway.

Need to head off to church in a minute. We’re supposed to head back to Allentown, PA to pick up our tractor later today. We live in the OKC area and no that’s not normal to be parked so far away when you have home time. It’s about 1500 miles from here. If I’ve got time before I hit the road I’ll try to post about it later. We have to be back by Tuesday morning for a delivery and won’t be home again until October 3rd. If the wheels aren’t turning, you aren’t earning.

Until then, enjoy this nice sunset from Mississippi.

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Science is just spiffy. July 22, 2017

Posted by lauraw in Art, Ducks, Personal Experiences.
17 comments

Hubby, after watching video: “I need a sand pendulum.”

 

You win, geoff. January 12, 2017

Posted by skinbad in Ducks, Nature Shit, Personal Experiences.
6 comments

I guess I’ll tell you a chicken story to help push that bad batch of sour cream below farther down the page.

I think I’ve mentioned to some of you that we’ve had chickens for a few years. A neighbor wanted to get rid of theirs (that should always tell you something, in my humble opinion). Anyway, like pretty much all things that happen to change my personal inertia, my wife decided to do something: in this case, that we should have chickens. Unlike the time she had hinted she wanted new carpet for a couple of years and finally let me know she was serious by ripping it out and having it sitting in the driveway when I came home from work, this time, she insisted I prepare for this new brood by coming up with some sort of hen house.

We had a dog house my dad had given me. I remember him building it when I was about five. So that would put the dog house in the 45-year-old range. Dad built things to last. I figured I could build a frame of 2x4s with four legs to set the doghouse on to raise it up a couple of feet and replaced the tongue and groove/tin covered roof with a piece of 1/4″ plywood. I attached the roof to the front braces with hinges so the roof could be lifted up for egg retrieval. I also had to throw up a quick fenced area in the back yard and built a ramp for the new arrivals to get from the ground up to their new digs.

It worked all right. And the chickens were perfect assholes. They were skittish and high-strung and would freak at any approaching human. So, naturally, my wife decided we needed a few more. The next spring she bought five chicks and we raised those stinky things to adulthood before introducing them to the four life-scarred and world-weary malcontents in the back. But, I didn’t know if the little doghouse/coop would hold that many.

Someone we knew was building a new house a few blocks away and I asked if I could scavenge some of the pressboard pieces in the dumpster to come up with a larger coop. I built a larger version but with similar features. Notably the hinged roof–but this time I attached it to the back of the coop. Over the last couple of years, two of the hens somehow got themselves killed by neighborhood critters, so we’re down to seven, and they all fit just fine in the newer coop. But, the old one is still out in the chicken run about two feet away.

The chickens are odd. They always sleep (and crap) in the new coop, so we (meaning “I,” see how that usually works out?) have to clean it out and put in fresh bedding every 2-3 weeks. The old coop can have the same bedding for a year. The chickens are in and out of it all day long, but they never sleep in it and never crap in it. It’s like their weekend home that they don’t feel comfortable enough with to use the facilities.

So, last night we had a lot of wind from the southwest–also some snow. The new coop with the hinges on the back can have the roof blown up and over so that it’s hanging off the back side by its hinges. It’s happened two or three times over the past few years. I should work up a latch to fix my bad design but just haven’t done it.

When it became light enough to see out the back door this morning, we could see the roof had blown over. My wife went out to feed them and flip the roof back and found seven snow-covered chicken lumps. They were alive, but not very happy. They could have made the five foot journey to the old coop, but just sat there and got snowed on all night.

Conclusions? Chickens are stupid. Some are more pleasant than others. We got all different breeds just for variety sake. Some are known to get along with others (and you) better than other breeds. I think there’s some truth to that. Also, the ones we raised from chicks are nicer than the immigrants. They do provide eggs, but we buy mash and scratch so it might come out as a wash. They do dispose of/recycle a lot of your kitchen scraps. They will wander and find dogs to eat them and fall in window wells if you allow it. They are amazing diggers. This would be a better post with pictures, but I’m doing this on my lunch hour at work because the previously posted drumsticks offended my sensibilities enough that I felt a need to act.

 

Two Centered Pictures September 26, 2016

Posted by skinbad in Ballistics, Food, Handblogging, Nature Shit, Personal Experiences, Technology, Women Ranting.
15 comments

I know I’m behind the times, but the times for me have a-changed. The IT guy took my trusty Dell doorstop away and replaced it with this:

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It’s an Intel NUC. Kind of cool, I think. When is the last time you used the DVD player in your computer?

And furthermore: A neighbor called Saturday afternoon and asked if we wanted a hindquarter of an elk. My thrifty wife got very excited. Of course we do. That was about 3 p.m. We finished the kitchen Clorox wipe-down about 9 p.m. Elk are big mofos.

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I should have weighed it before starting. It had to weight 80 lbs. This was a new experience for me–thanks youtube. Also, a neighbor I called and asked if I could borrow his knife sharpener came over and helped me bone it (huhhuhuh). New respect for butchers gained–my hands and back are stiff, but there is a lot of meat in the freezer and on the shelf (we bottled a canner load).

Update and WTH is wrong with people? June 10, 2016

Posted by digitalbrownshirt in News, Personal Experiences, Stupid shit, WTF?.
4 comments

So 5 days later my knee is still stiff, but the wound scabbed over nicely. Unfortunately it’s positioned right on the part that bends so when I do bend my knee it cracks the scab. Super. At least it’s not infected. I had an appointment with my neurosurgeon on Monday and he told me to leave it uncovered as often as possible just to get it to dry out. Obviously that’s not why I was seeing him, but I figured as long as I was there he’d give me advice on how to treat it. He also told me to keep it clean and use some triple antibiotic on it too. The usual stuff that mom used to tell me growing up.

I posted on my Facebook account about what happened that night. Apparently the owner of the pit bull knows somebody on my FB list and found out I had the audacity to complain about her letting her dog get loose. She’s one of those 20-somethings with 3,000 friends on her list. I didn’t see any of my friends on her list so I’m not sure exactly how she found out anything at all. I didn’t lie or embellish anything in my post. I was actually nicer about her than most people would be if they were bleeding on their living room floor while talking about it. She sent me a private message through FB saying she was offended that I was talking about her on FB. As if I’m some friend of hers in junior high school. It didn’t go well after that.

I explained to her that she didn’t get to be offended unless she was missing part of her knee and had been set back in her recovery by a month. I couldn’t even wear long pants for several days because the wound would stick to my trousers. When I slept I had to cover it to keep my sheets from getting blood stained, yet she was offended. She said my dog was aggressive too because when I talked to her Riley was snapping at her pit bull through the fence. You know, the pit bull that just attacked us 5 minutes earlier. Apparently she didn’t know dogs have memories that go beyond 5 minutes. Then she got down to the heart of the matter which was I said she was a bad dog owner and now “everybody in town” knows what happened. She said it only happened once and she’d lived there 3 years without incident (like that matters for some reason). Then she blamed it on her visiting mother who left the garage door open because her daughter didn’t warn her that her pit bulls could escape if the door wasn’t shut. I was trying to not get angry, which is a new thing for me, but I couldn’t help thinking she was trying to say it was my fault for walking my dog in my own neighborhood. At least the part she wasn’t blaming her mother for was my fault.

I decided to switch tactics in order to win her over with logic. We went over what happens if the police and animal control gets involved. Nothing good for the dog, and I don’t want that on my conscience, but it would be worse for her, so she’d better grow up pretty fast because our conversation was starting to head in the wrong direction. That seemed to sober her up some. Then when I mentioned having to have x-rays taken she really started back tracking, because “Surprise!”, she can’t afford to pay for my medical expenses, which meant I’d have to deal with her home owners insurance, which I suspect would frown on her 4 pit bulls. I thought she had 3, but it was actually 4, which I think is one more dog than local laws allow. I’m going to see if my insurance will cover the x-rays. I get them to check my hardware, but I don’t normally get them this soon. I just got them early to see if the screws were actually ripping out of my vertebrae. Luckily it only felt like they were ripping out.

It seemed her main issue was that people would think she was a bad dog owner because of something that happened “one” time. I explained to her that if I left one of my guns out and a visiting child picked it up and blew their brains out, wouldn’t I be a bad gun owner even though it only happened “one” time? She said that was extreme, but I think my argument is valid. Both guns and dogs can be dangerous when not handled safely and it only takes once to cause a lifetime of regret. This can’t happen again. The next time it might be someone even more physically weak than I am like a young child or an elderly person. Certainly it’s a likely scenario that the next person might not have a dog big enough to defend it’s owner. What if it’s somebody that’s carrying? That’s very common here and if I’d been carrying that day I’m afraid things would have turned out badly for her dog. For a moment I was in fear for my safety, I nearly let go of my dog’s leash to protect myself. A few years ago this would have been little more than an irritant, but today it’s a much bigger deal.

I think our conversation ended ok. I don’t know if she started to see things from my point of view or if she just realized she was talking her dog into a needle and herself into a lawsuit. I really don’t want either of those things to happen, but I also want to make sure that she knows you don’t get to be offended when you do something like this to another person. She’s probably not a terrible person. Most people get defensive when they’re called out for their mistakes, but what matters is how you respond to your mistakes.

Sorry for the ramble. I woke up in the middle of the night and can’t get back to sleep. My knee is killing me. My back is killing me. My ribs and stomach are bruised from bouncing on the sidewalk. The medication helps, but it doesn’t make it go away.

Healthy living June 5, 2016

Posted by digitalbrownshirt in Family, Personal Experiences, Stupid shit.
6 comments

Apparently trying to be healthy disagrees with me. I decided to take my German Shepherd for a walk. She’s not the most social animal in the world, but she is obedient and HIGHLY protective. About a block from our home we passed a house with 3 medium sized dogs in the backyard. Two of them were pit bulls and the third a mixed breed of similar size. One of the pits decided to engage my dog so it got out of it’s yard, ran down the street and tried biting my dog on the neck. Riley, our GSD, kept herself between the pit and myself while trying to latch onto any part of the other dog that would fit into her jaws, so the entire dog in other words. The pit bull realized it had made a mistake and broke off the engagement and ran back home at which point Riley sat down next to me and gave me the “Why are you laying on the ground crying like that?” look. Looking at all three of their dogs I would guess that the guilty party is a very young dog that hasn’t learned to mind it’s own business yet.

During their little debate she yanked me around and I got pulled down into the concrete sidewalk, all 300 lbs of me. I had a leather training lead and a prong collar on her since I’m trying to control her habit of pulling hard on the leash. Mostly it’s working. I think the knee is the only real damage, but I’m seeing my neurosurgeon tomorrow and will mention it to him. We might need more x-rays to see if it hurt my new hardware in my back because I can tell you right now, that’s going to hurt in the morning. Hopefully it’s all good because I don’t want anything to happen to the other dog just because the owner made a mistake. I talked to them about it and explained the importance of keeping control of larger dogs for their safety and the safety of others. It could have turned out much worse than it did.

The Continuing Adventures of Super Whiz Tech Guy March 20, 2016

Posted by skinbad in Personal Experiences, Stupid shit, Technology.
3 comments

Alternate title: Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born?

I have a laptop that has to be six or seven years old. It did a good job for a long time, then I assumed the battery was dying a year or so ago, which was no big deal. It was mostly just an extra machine for whatever web-browsing or homework activity was going on in the house. As long as it was plugged in, it was fine. Slowly, slowly it went downhill, to where it wouldn’t even power on. I had thought about trying to replace the battery. One of my daughters had an iPod a few years ago and when the battery died I watched some intricate, watchmaker, type videos on replacing the battery, but, of course, Apple said to send it in and they would replace it for $50 or some outlandish sum. I never did send it in.

(more…)

Spinal Stenosis November 24, 2015

Posted by digitalbrownshirt in Family, Personal Experiences.
13 comments

Guess what I’m doing this morning? I could use any prayers or happy thoughts for the next few days. I’m headed to the hospital in a few minutes and even though I was pretty calm before, I’m starting to get kind of wound up about having my insides rearranged. The funny part is this won’t be the worst Thanksgiving I’ve ever had. At least my family can visit me at the hospital.

I look forward to six weeks of Fallout 4 when I come home.

Man You Muhfuckers Are Depressing the Shit Outta Me March 25, 2015

Posted by daveintexas in Ballistics, Commenting Tips, Ducks, Economics, Gardening, Handblogging, Heroes, Law, Man Laws, Mufuckin Pie!, Nature Shit, News, Personal Experiences, Philosophy, Religion, Sex, Sidebar Flag Bullshit, Stupid shit, Terrorist Hemorrhoids, Women Ranting, WTF?.
70 comments

Stop that STOP THAT! This is supposed to be an ‘appy occasion.

And how did I get nominated for the last post here ever? Geoff has been working his skinny butt off posting and such.

Ain’t right. Ain’t right.

 

Yes, this post is going to have a “theme”.

So. 2006 or thGFYerebouts. I was 47 years old. Geezer was 75, Peelie was 13 and LauraW was in county banging a tin cup on the bars and yelling “FILTHY SCREWS FILTHY SCREWS”.  If you never heard this stuff it’s all true email me I have documents and stuff.

I don’t know what I’m doing here. I don’t do this for a living you know.

In 2006 I had no idea how this worked. I had a kid in college and one on the way there.  I was just working and making jokes here and at Ace’s and getting to know you all.  And we’d get in comment threads and make absurd bitey faces at each other and joke around.  Then this, ace called it “The Splitters”.  So we did more stupid stuff and monkeys stopped flinging poop long enough to stare at us as if we were raving lunatics or something.  And then this amazing thing happened. I met some of you, most of you.  I actually came to places and saw your dorky faces and in person for reals.. met you.  You were already my friends then you became my in person touching hugging friends.  And every one of you every damn one of you hugged me and loved me and made me feel ten feet tall, bulletproof and invisible.  Thank you special people for the extra touches you know who you are and I won’t say it out loud here Geoff.

 

Hey Dave how about we all go some place across the country and meet each other for reals?

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This place, this actual place made it be possible for me to meet you all.  To be friends and to love you. All your cares, all my cares. Fake internet friends became real friends. (thanks Al Gore).

Somehow it meant our personal lives became part of each other.  I am a part of you all. The goofy part, or maybe tummy gas. I’m still a part of you all.  Might be stinky. In a way I’d be proud if I was the stinky part.

OK then, I love you idiots. And I say idiots knowing I’m the idiot and you’re not I just have to drop that stuff at you because otherwise I’d gete sniffly and shit and no way no how am I gonna do that, fuck that.

I miss ya Harrison. You were one of the sweetest souls I’ve ever known who called me a friend. I miss Michael too.  He was a big dumb jerk but he was also my friend and he loved me and you all (and fuck cancer seriously fuck cancer, pineapple/sideways).  Oddly I miss them both in much the same way except I liked Harrison.

But I do need to say something very important that’s been on my heart for a long long time.

Michael, if you’re reading this (don’t you have better things to do?), I’m really sorry about the guest towels.  That was so wrong of me.  I feel bad about that, especially the part about me planting them in your pillowcase before I went home.

That was wrong of me.

Remember Pirate Talk?

tarnation

 

 

 

 

 

Thank you Michael, Geezer, for bringing people into my life that I never would have met. I never would have known them, never would have loved them like I do. Your gift to all of us is so fine. You thought you were making a silly thing. Geezer thought it was a joke, a funny.  Thank all of you for inviting me into your lives, your homes your personal space without freaking out.. much.

What you made was friendships. That’s what you did and that’s the legacy of the Splitters.

How Dave Feels About Centering Pictures

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We people are the people we people care about. We are the ones we’ve been waiting for. That’s what y’all did and you had no damn idea even that’s what you were doing. Like usual.

I love you idiots.

This place was a place. Better than ice cream. And ice cream kicks ass.

 

Y’all are better than ice cream and I still need you all in my life.

dis

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

UPDATED

mf

My last two months March 8, 2015

Posted by digitalbrownshirt in Ducks, Family, News, Personal Experiences.
comments closed

All of this is written under the influence of Norco, Valium and Naproxen, so sorry if it seems like it’s all over the place.

Starting back in December, while I was visiting Southern California for Christmas vacation, I started noticing more pain than usual in my back and leg. I’m a fat, middle aged man. I kind of expect pain in the back. This was the kind that dropped me to the floor and had me blubbering like Michael Moore when he got banned from the local Golden Corral. I thought I’d dislocated my hip. So being a man, I immediately tried ignoring it. I even took my 17 year old daughter to do a last minute Christmas shopping early in the morning on 12/24. I took 3 steps from my car, collapsed in the parking lot, then crawled back to my car on my hands and knees. The pain was easily a 9 or 10 on the 1-10 scale. Still I didn’t want to disappoint my daughter so I said “Here’s a $100, buy whatever you need, but try to be quick.” After 5 minutes I start looking for ER’s or at least an Urgent Care that handles sports injuries (the closest thing to a dislocated hip). Five minutes after that I texted my daughter (that’s right, I know how to text now) “Wrap it up. We’ve got to go to an ER.” Before you think my daughter is being selfish for shopping, let me tell you that in our house, if I tell the kids to do something, it’s very difficult to argue with me. She was kind of between a rock and a hard place at that point.

We ended up at a place called Apple Urgent Care. I figured they picked the name “Apple” because it was one of the first words in their Spanish/English dictionaries that they recognized. I talked to several people there, all of them seemed really sweet, but I’d bet money all of them were half guessing at what I was trying to tell them. There’s a lot of places in California that a working knowledge of Spanish probably would help. We were in Hemet, which 30 years ago was a small, peaceful retirement town near the mountains. Now it’s gang banger central with drive-by’s, home invasions and a ridiculous amount of violent crime for a such a small city. I heard more crime stories waiting at the pharmacy later than we have back home in a year. Even the doctor seemed perplexed by my explanation of my pain. I told her I’d been taking Naproxen, but it barely had any effect, so of course she gives me a prescription for Naproxen (which isn’t even a prescription medication). She also gave me a prescription for Norco (which worked a little better). She also made me drive (keep in mind I can barely stand up) to another facility to have an x-ray of my hip done. I only found out the x-ray was “normal” because I called back 3 days later. Not too impressed with the professionalism.

So I thought, I could either tough it out with pain that ranged from 2-6 while using Norco or actually check into a California hospital. I decided I’d rather get killed by an Oklahoma doctor, at least they wouldn’t have to ship the body home. Oddly enough, the only position that didn’t seem to completely kill me was sitting in the car. The Norco bottle didn’t say no driving on it, so I just tried to take it easy as we started back on our 1500 mile trip home. I let my wife drive some and we actually stopped in a Holiday Inn Express in New Mexico.

My family doctor finally saw me around 1/8/15, gave me another prescription for Norco and sent me out for an MRI on 1/15/15. Big surprise, it was a herniated disk between the L4 and L5. So the results get back to my doc, who then sets me up with a specialist on 1/22/15. She takes a look at the MRI and say’s “Piece of cake. It’s right in the back of the spine, so it’ll be easy to get to. We’ll just grind off a little of each vertebrae and take that pressure off the disk.” So I’m thinking “Awesome, it’s not in my head.” I actually worry about that sometimes. It’s out surgery which is also cool because at 46 years old I’ve never been a patient in a hospital before. I have to get a few more test done on 1/29/15, then the actual the actual surgery on 2/5/15. It seemed like it went really well and they sent me home the same day.

It went really well for about 2 weeks at least. All the stuff I read up about the surgery suggested I’d have about a 3% chance of infection. Guess it was more like 100% for me. I had a high fever, got more delusional than normal and ended up going back to the hospital on 2/18/15. I ended up staying in the hospital for over a week. My white blood cell count was through the roof (apparently that’s bad, I had to ask) and they did another MRI on me that said it was either an hematoma or an abscess on my spine. They stuck a tube up into my spine to drain blood and pus. They also grew some cultures from my spinal fluid to find out what was actually trying to kill me. Amongst other things I had a staph infection inside of my spine. It’s the weirdest feeling when a doctor tells you that you can die or maybe just be paralyzed by something you can’t even see without a damned microscope. Luckily there’s apparently more than one type of staph and I only got the one that made you want to kill yourself instead of the one that actually does it. By the way, the windows on the 7th floor of the hospital don’t open. I was trying to figure it out at one point. I’m glad my doctor told the hospital to give me pretty much anything I asked for to control pain. Morphine was my best friend for most of the week I stayed. I finally got well enough to go home, which was my main goal, but I had to say good bye to morphine. It was a bitter trade. My pain was bad enough to keep using, but you can only get it in the hospital unless you’re in the end phase of cancer apparently.

I’m seeing the specialist that give me my antibiotics on Monday. I have to have to change out the picc line once a week and they’ll give me another weeks worth of antibiotics. They told me I’d get one of those temporary handicap parking tags too. I can’t drive anyway, but at least my daughter won’t have to drop me off, then go find a parking spot a 1/2 mile away too. My surgeon is supposed to get me a new prescription on the same day. They seemed concerned because apparently if you take a narcotic for too long the pharmacy police will come get me or something. Nevermind if there’s something obviously wrong with me or not. Hopefully they’ll either switch me to something else or I’ll get better before I run out of this prescription. Either way it’s disturbing that the government decides if you need a medication without even seeing the patient.

I don’t blame the surgeons or the hospital for any of these problems I’ve had. I know that sometimes shit just happens. The hospital’s entire staff always treated me with dignity and respect. I know that they really wanted to help me as much as they could. One of the night watch nurses told me it was probably because I was one of the nicest patients they’d ever dealt with. It must have been the morphine that was making me so friendly.

picc line

They did set me up with a picc line which is something I’d never heard of before. It’s like a catheter that goes in near your elbow, travels up that big vein in your arm stops just short of entering your heart. I had to sign a form saying that they’d explained how it goes in and I was still willing to do it. They also asked me a few questions to make sure I wasn’t too loopy to sign a contract. Anyway I now have to have an anti-biotic injected into my picc line every 8 hours for the next 6-8 weeks. I also have to use a walker to travel more than about 30 feet. I think the psychological trauma of going from a stronger than normal 46 year old man to being almost like a 2 year old in strength has hurt worse than the surgery itself. I’m just thankful for my family that has been taking care of me, especially my daughter. She wants to be an RN someday and it’s obvious that she’s got the right mix of compassion for the hurt, plus she’s not putting up with any bullshit from her whining dad. That’s a mix that should serve her well.

I also want to thank my wife for helping me bathe. It’s not as sexy as it sounds, but being clean helps me psychologically. She even shaved me. (I’m talking about my face pervs.) I almost felt human afterwards. I can’t do it on my own because of the big cut in my back that’s still healing.

nurse rubber duck

Anyway, thanks for giving me a chance to have some catharsis for the last couple of months. I’m still not sure I’ll ever be able to go back to my old job. I’m a machinist. At the very least I’ll be out for 6-8 weeks and even when I’m OK to go back to work I’ll be on light duty. If, God forbid, I’m considered too damaged to keep working my current job (which I actually enjoy) then I hope I can get into some kind of rehab training. I’ve thought about going back to school before, but I always used the excuse that I had to earn a living to take care of my family. Now most of my family takes care of themselves and I’ve got enough dough stuffed away in my 401k (assuming the commander in thief doesn’t steal it) to pay off my house and some other small bills. Maybe this is some kind of sign that I should start a new chapter in my life. I better do some serious prayer about this.

Sky Dancers October 23, 2014

Posted by Retired Geezer in Entertainment, Personal Experiences.
3 comments

Nanjing Youth Olympic trailer, 500 people dancing in the sky.

 

 

Hat tip to Traveling Opi and Tula.