The point of no return,.

"Yo, can I still pass your class?"

"Who are you?"
*rifles through grade/attendance book*

"You last came to class on September 15. You've missed three papers, five quizzes and the midterm. No, you can't pass at this point."

"Can you sign my drop slip?"

"Add/drop period was over three weeks ago."

"Fuck, man. What am I supposed to do now?"

"Take the 'F,' and work harder when you repeat the class next semester?"

Ooorah! 1775 - 2010

If the Army and the Navy Ever gaze on Heaven’s scenes,

They will find the streets are guarded by United States Marines.

Wishing "Uncle Sam's Misguided Children" a happy birthday. Carry on, men!

Have a screen saver.

Put your drink down before you click this. You may want to back up a few feet, as well.

http://www.raincitystory.com/flash/screenclean.swf

Conspiracy!

Remember remember the fifth of November
Gunpowder, treason and plot!
I see no reason why gunpowder, treason
Should ever be forgot...

Burn a few effigies,  set off some fireworks and eat a toffee apple or three.

In which my faith in the goodness of people is sorely tested. Again.

There are times when I am seriously disgusted by what are ostensibly human beings.

Late last week, a local man was found dead in a downtown hotel room. As the story evolved, it was discovered that he was beaten and strangled, and the (then unknown) perp had set fire to the hotel bed in an effort to cover up the crime. A few days later. it came out that the man was father to a couple of students at OctoBoy's school.  The school and Church community reallied; meals were made and sent over, arrangements were made, condolence visits and help for the family was organized...everyone drew together to support and shelter the family in their grief.

Yesterday it was announced that an arrest had been made -- a transgendered prostitute. Now, let me be clear: there is no proof -- other than circumstantial evidence -- that this man hired him/her. No surveillance video, no testimony -- even from the hooker him/herself. Just the appearance of a possible impropriety.

Suddenly, the school community was abuzz.  To the point that Sister Meatball had to issue a very stern letter, reminding people to behave in a Christian, compassionate manner and to remember that two young children had lost a father, and that gossip was the Devil's playground.

Bad enough to lose a parent at a very young age. Bad enough that the parent was lost to murder.

But what kind of rat-fuck, small-minded, pig-ignorant, cruel-hearted fucktard tortures children with mocking comments about such a tragedy? Simpering, smirking commentary and sidelong glances...knowing eye rolls, and all the various snippy, snarky, purse-lipped "Uhm hmmmmmms..."

Some people need a good dose of sunlight in to their souls. Preferably let in with something of a large caliber.

The Trials of Ratty and Fatty

I've been looking after my in-laws' dogs while they are away. This entails stopping by three times a day to feed/water/let out/clean up after them, and socialize with them a bit. Oy. Ratty (or Ratbert) and Fatty (or Fatbert) are a neurotic hot mess under normal circumstances, but a week on their own, with limited contact, has elevated their internal warning systems to OMG WTF BBQ!!!

Ratty is a Toy Fox Terrier -- he's skinny and has a nervous, jerky disposition. He trembles a lot, and his little beef-jerky legs shake and twitch. He gets easily chilled, and burrows in to furniture to stay warm. He's a finicky eater, as well. Fatty is a Jack Russell Terrier who is equally high strung and has the disposition of a hippo with hemorrhoids. She's earned her nickname by being the most spherical dog I've ever clapped an eye to. She's so rotund, her nipples stick out sideways! They are the canine equivalent of Jack Sprat and his wife; Ratty will not eat if he's distressed in any way, and Fatty stuffs all of her emotional distress with food.

Thus, Ratty is pining. Not even "people food" (cheese or chicken) will tempt him. He's been lying on the sofa, sighing dramatically and mentally composing Goth poems. Fatty, on the other hand, has gotten crafty to avoid what she is certain the end-result of her abandonment will be: starvation.

This morning, I discovered that she had nosed/clawed her way in to the pantry, chewed open the dog food bin, and eaten herself in to a stupor, while Ratty looked on nervously and apparently had a guilt-based attack of the shits.

Does anyone need gator bait? I'll give you a good price per pound, but they're a package deal.

People who need a kick in the cremaster muscle, part 3,724.

About three blocks down the street, we have a mailbox; squat and blue, it stands in the middle of a block. About ten yards behind it, there's a parking lot. Most (considerate) people pull in to the parking lot and walk back to the box to deposit their outgoing mail.

However, asshats abound.

A couple of mornings ago, I found myself stuck in the middle of a line of traffic, waiting for someone who had stopped dead in the middle of the street, turned on their flashers and was depositing their very large stack of mail -- one piece at a time.  He'd pick an individual envelope, scan the front and back carefully, put it on the mail chute/flap, close it and then re-open the chute to make sure that the piece had slipped down into the box. He did this with about twenty letters.

Meanwhile, traffic behind him was building up, and the cars in the opposing direction were too numerous to allow anyone to pull out and pass the offending idiot. Predictably, the honking began and was a deafening din in no time at all. This did not encourage the letter-mailer to move any faster. Eventually, he finished his stack, went back to his car and drove off...

Only to be replaced by another idiot three cars later, who did the exact same thing.

Go vote!