November 13, 2003
I was going to link to this article over at Rocket Man, about the most recent technology involved in tomorrowÂ’s airships and how the US is planning to use them (you should read it and be amazed), but then I ran across the post where he relates his fatherÂ’s experiences in WWII. Both well worth the visit.
Over at Transterrestrial Musings, Rand Simberg points out an interesting discussion about how nanotechnology is described to everyday people, and how the metaphors used in that description could be part of the acceptance problem. Daniel, did you already see this?
Kate of Electric Venom is dealing with her military husband leaving for situations unknown. Harvey says it so much better than I could, so my thanks and best wishes to Kate and her family, and to Harvey and his. This particularly touched me because at this time we donÂ’t know exactly where our son is. IÂ’ve talked about him before, he serves on a US Navy attack sub. His last message was a middle-of-the-night phone call from the Med to let us know he was ok, but heading right back out again. No details other than to forget Christmas plans.
Also, on Jocularocracy, an excellent post about American sports figures who served their country.
Genital Warts: the Musical. Seriously. Which is also what this guy is. Seriously funny that is, not genitally warted. Uh, that I know of. I mean, I don't know for sure either way, ok?
Aaaaagh! My eyes! The flea must pay for this atrocity. Oh wait, he has. With thisÂ… IÂ’m in lust! (This excerpt brought to you by Lithium, trusted by multiple personalities the world over.)
StMack of Hold the Mayo goes on an analysis binge. HeÂ’s spot on about the current filibustermania and what it really means. HeÂ’s also done some introspection about his own postings and decided that it all breaks down into two categories: It Amuses Me, and It Pisses Me Off. Yin and Yang.
Now Alice (who is married to a much older man) is posting pictures from a pig roast. At least they claim it's pig. Pretty grotesque if youÂ’re not into whole roasted animals. Pretty yummy otherwise. Is it just me, or does that look like Alf lying there after the Feds finally caught up with him? Betcha WillieÂ’s doing hard time for that one, or maybe spending the reward moneyÂ…
Speaking of throwing meat-flavored animals on the fire, the Meatriarch posts about objectivist pickup lines, which probably pleases Don no end, because to hear him tell it, he needs all the help he can get.
Plus, Mr. A points to one of the coolest online toys/time wasters IÂ’ve seen in a while. I love this kind of stuff!
SantaHelpful has arrived. Be joyous and merry.
This kind of stuff is why you should read this guy.
Bill, wake up... Bill, we're almost done.
The AnalogKid at Random Nuclear Strikes is planning to show up to support the troops because the screwballs from Not In Our Name are planning to show up to encourage troop mutiny. HereÂ’s a followup post as well.
Ross at Rocket Penguin is going active duty. Drop by and wish him well, and encourage caretaker Phil.
Dead Pool anyone? The clock is ticking – no pun intended, Bill. Thanks to Paul for the pointer, and who hates the elderly (well, just one specific old guy).
Homemade pies and strip joints and antique silver.
McTroll meets TwoDragons and is warned: “you'll discover what "McAlteration of McComments" means.”
Bill has been bitching about his job quite a bit lately. My advice is to quit. Maybe McDonalds is hiring greeters. He's such a people person, ya know? Besides, folks expect the elderly to be grouchy.
Nic is riding the roller-coaster of Washington Capitals fandom, along with everyone else who roots for them. I wonÂ’t even mention mood-swings to Victor, because heÂ’s undoubtedly going through them too. What was that about Yin and Yang? Oh yeah, which Capitals team will show up on any given night.
All done. I'd call Bill a link-whore, but that would imply an active libido, and there's no evidence he can even get it up anymore. Anyway, stop by and say hello and wish him a happy birthday. Stop by again later, don't worry, he won't remember.
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11:51 AM | category: Links
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Two popular titles are Starry Night and Redshift.
Starry Night lets you plan your sky observations, pointing out selected items of interest and printing out simple maps that will let you locate them in the heavens. The price ranges from about $25 up to about $150, depending on the version you buy. I've never used it, but have heard good things about it from those who have.
Redshift is another virtual planetarium. The latest version sells for around $100. Once again, I haven't used this one, but it's been recommended to me by people I trust.
A neat feature of both of these titles is the ability to go backwards and forwards in time to view the sky, so if you missed the last eclipse because of clouds (as seen from the moon), you can catch it on screen.
This next one isn't quite the same as the other two. Celestia is a 3D Space Simulator that you have to see to believe, and best of all, it's free! There are continuing updates to the software and extra libraries to add destinations like satellites and probes. It also has a guided tour and teaching mode. I've played around with this one for a year now, and it's fun, versatile and addictive. There is a version available for the Mac too.
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08:29 AM | category: SciTech
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8:15 Wake up to hugs and kisses.
8:30 Weigh 5 lbs. lighter than yesterday.
8:45 Breakfast in bed, fresh squeezed orange juice and croissants.
9:15 Soothing hot bath with fragrant lilac bath oil.
10:00 Light workout at club with handsome, funny personal trainer.
10:30 Facial, manicure, shampoo, and comb out.
12:00 Lunch with best friend at an outdoor cafe.
12:45 Notice ex-boyfriend's wife, she has gained 30 lbs.
1:00 Shopping with friends.
3:00 Nap.
4:00 A dozen roses delivered by florist. Card is from a secret admirer.
4:15 Light workout at club followed by a gentle massage
5:30 Pick outfit for dinner. Primp before mirror.
7:30 Candlelight dinner for two followed by dancing.
10:00 Hot shower. Alone.
10:30 Make love.
11:00 Pillow talk, light touching and cuddling.
11:15 Fall asleep in his big, strong arms.
In the extended entry is the version for us guys. more...
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07:04 AM | category: Square Pegs
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We live in a townhouse that's almost 40 years old, so when something breaks we have two options. Option one is replacing the item, which means heading out to HardwareChain to buy a new one. Option two is repairing the item, in which case I head to our local old-timey hardware store. I could spend hours there, browsing and talking to the employees, many of whom have been there for years. They stock all the specific parts for the houses that were built in our area, so if I need a left-threaded twaddle-stomper they probably have it, whereas at the HardwareChain they'd look confused and call the manager, who would tell me that everyone uses right-threaded twaddle-stompers now and I need to buy a whole new thing. Yeah, it costs more at the old-timey place, but I consider it money well spent.
Thanks to the magic of digital cameras, I didn't have to dismantle the entire bathroom fixture and take it with me. I went in and met Roy (who probably did the original plumbing at Montecello), and we started looking for the needed replacement parts. We found them, I paid and headed home.
Wrong parts. Looked the same as the picture, but the internals were completely different once disassembled. So I headed back to the hardware store, this time with the original in hand.
My blood went cold when Roy looked at the part and said "I've never seen anything like this before." In my mind I'm hearing cha-chings and wondering how much a complete replacement is going to cost. Then Roy tells me to call Carter's Plumbing and see if they sell this brand of stuff, if so they're worth checking with first.
He also told me to take the incorrect part to the register and just tell them that 'Roy said to accept it' and they did - refunding my money with no problems on a package already opened, just because Roy said so.
Back home again, I looked up Carter's and gave them a call. First things first, yes they do carry that brand, and second, "where are you located?" I knew the general vicinity, and it was one of those streets that progress bypasses, close to everything, but unnoticed smack in between major roads and shopping centers.
I found the place with no problem and walked in. Obviously a family business, because the girl behind the register would've been in high school on non-holiday tuesdays. When I mentioned what I was looking for she went back and got her mom.
Mom looked at the part and immediately knew who made it, what it was for and how it worked. She also knew that Roy had mis-identified the manufacturer and showed me why, comparing it to a similar item. Lo and behold - they had two hanging on the wall. Maybe the last two on earth, because the company went out of business some time ago. I bought 'em both. She even showed me how to fix them, laughing that she shouldn't do that because it was probably costing her a service call.
We talked for about a half-hour about this and that. They've been at that same address for 34 years. She knew Roy, they'd worked together for a long time. And next year when I do a complete remodel on the bathroom, I'll probably call Carter's for at least part of the work, just because they were kind enough to treat me like an individual and a friend and not just another customer.
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06:43 AM | category: Boring Stories
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November 12, 2003
Thanks to Professor Hall at Spacecraft for the pointer.
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10:32 AM | category: SciTech
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Driving behind the car is a fella in a pickup truck with his 10-year-old daughter, chatting away beside him. All of a sudden, the pecker smacks the pickup in the windshield, sticks for a moment, then flies off.
Surprised, the daughter asks her daddy, "Daddy what in the heck was that?
Not wanting to expose his 10-year-old daughter to sex at such a tender age, the father replies, "It was only a bug, honey."
The daughter gets a confused look on her face, and after a minute she says, "Sure had a big dick, didn't it?!"
Posted by: Ted at
07:54 AM | category: Square Pegs
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Another church sign in the extended entry. more...
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07:28 AM | category: Square Pegs
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Yesterday I needed to take care of some emergency plumbing in the house. One thing you need for that is one of those little propane torches, which is cool, because it's an excuse to buy another toy. 
I remembered that my father-in-law had given me a torch kit years ago, one that he had owned forever. All it needed was the torch propane tank, and I knew the hardware store had those. So I bought one while I was there getting plumbing parts.
Turns out I didn't need the torch since no copper pipes were involved. So after repairs were complete, I pulled out the torch kit and looked it over. It needed some cleanup, which I did, and it was time to try it out. I went out into the backyard and screwed on the nozzle and attached the whole thing to the tank. At the base of the torch part, near the top of the tank, is a wheel you turn to open and close the tank. So far, so good.
I turned the wheel and heard the hiss of propane. I tried the little scratch-sparker but it wasn't working right, so I reached for plan B, which was my long fireplace lighter. One click of that and *fwoof*, I had torch!
Well, not exactly. The nozzle assembly was so old that it leaked from every crack and crevice and opening, so what I was holding was a giant fireball. I stood there holding this thing while my hand singed, wondering how I could reach into the flames to shut off the propane again. I was holding a pressurized tank of propane that was enveloped in fire. Oh boy.
I threw it. Not far, just about 10 feet into a bare patch of dirt where the garden used to be. I immediately closed the back door, because even a glass door is better than nothing when the damn thing explodes, plus I didn't want the dogs to come out just then. I knew that if I went to call the fire department, it would take way too long. Thank God I had raked leaves a couple of days ago.
Finally I did the only thing I could think of, I got the garden hose (it was right there) and turned the water on full. I didn't know if I could put the torch out, but maybe I could keep the tank cool enough to keep from exploding. I imagined standing there like a fireman for hours, waiting for a neighbor to come out into their back yard or a kid to wander by out back that I could flag down. I wondered how long it would take for the tank to empty.
No worries. After a bit I managed to drown the entire flame. Another minute of spray to cool everything down, and then I turned the propane off, disconnected everything and threw that torch kit in the trash. It wasn't my father-in-law's fault. And now I get to buy a brand new torch. 
Mmmmm, hardware store...
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05:37 AM | category: Boring Stories
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November 11, 2003
Spork wants to hear about me losing my first 341 in basic training. For those who don’t know what he’s talking about, ‘341’ is the form number for a little slip of paper that all trainees are required to carry around and present on demand. They’re used to document minor offences and unmilitary stupidities committed by said winghead. When I went through basic, it was highly recommended that we carry two of them at all times, along with a pen. Not having the 341 or pen was itself punishable. Lose enough 341’s and the TI’s would whack your pee-pee or take away your birthday or something.
Sorry amigo, but I never lost a 341, a fact that I’m rather proud of. Unfortunately, my originals were ruined when a whole bunch of us went into the water during the confidence course. This isn’t to say that I was the perfect little recruit, because I did manage to get confined to the barracks during liberty weekend, as well as having one ‘conversation’ (translation: I got yelled at while I stood at attention) with the section superintendent. I just never did anything trivial enough to warrant a 341.
Instead, I present the continuing story of Airman Basic R T Phipps.
I survived basic training and moved on to the next phase of my training. My selected (not by me) career field was Security Police. Yep, Ted was gonna be a cop. SPÂ’s do important work, and many of them are intelligent and dedicated. I hold all SPÂ’s in high esteem because they do their thankless jobs in extreme conditions.
But to give you an idea of what it takes to be an Air Force Security Policeman, if you can’t make it through ‘cook’ school, they make you a cop. Too dumb to be a truck driver? Cop. I think you get the point. SP’s are the ‘grunts’ of the Air Force – cannon fodder infantry in blue.
So we did cop school, doing classroom work and learning cop things like riot control and search procedures and lots and lots of shooting of weapons (.38 pistol, M16, M204 grenade launcher and M60 machine gun), as well as more military things like the UCMJ. This part of training happened at the same base as basic training: Lackland AFB in San Antonio, Texas.
Part two of cop training was conducted at Camp Bullis, located in the hills overlooking San Antone. From civilization to Boy Scout camp - with automatic weapons. We lived in 12 man tents and ate C-rations and tromped through the hills and learned the skills called Air Base Ground Defense. More about that in another story.
To celebrate something (probably Friday), a whole bunch of us took the bus back to Lackland for an evening of drinking and hellraising. Once there, we went to a bar that someone knew of right outside one of the gates, and we settled in. I donÂ’t remember much of the time at the bar, except for much flirting with the waitress and an unknown number of pitchers of beer.
This was my first real drunk. IÂ’d been buzzed before, but remember I had turned 18 years old not long before this in basic training, so my opportunities had been limited.
I remember having some vague plan about spending the night on base in our old cop barracks, because the bus back to Camp Bullis didnÂ’t run until the following day. I also remember leaving the bar with my buddies, and all of us staggering across an empty field (parade ground? football field?), falling-down drunk and singing loudly, all the while holding hands so nobody got lost.
I got lost.
At one point that night, I got pulled over by the base police. No surprise, since I could barely stay on the sidewalk, let alone walk a straight line. They asked to see my ID card, and after a minute of trying to figure out how my wallet worked, I just handed them the wallet and told them to pull it out themselves. No go. Another minute or two and I got it figured out and my ID card was handed over. One of the cops was a female, and she told me that there had been a rape (or rapes?) on base. I asked if she was accusing me or worried about me, which I thought was funny as hell. They asked where I was going and I told them I had a room that I was headed for, just down the road. They told me to be careful and drove off. I had no idea where I was nor where my room was.
I woke up under a tree next to the base swimming pool. The sun was up, and my eyes opened. I looked up into the branches of a tree, and I was lying on grass. Just realizing this much felt like a victory.
Some time later, it may have been minutes or weeks, I sat up and took stock. Alive? Check. Dressed? Check, sorta. I was in baby step mode. First things first, where were my shoes and socks? Looking around I realized that my glasses were gone. Shit. At least my jacket was there, IÂ’d been using it as a pillow.
Under another tree I found my shoes, neatly placed side by side, with my socks stuffed inside. A third tree must have been my designated closet, because here I found the contents of my pockets including my wallet, a bag from the BX with some pictures IÂ’d had developed and picked up the day before, and my glasses, all in a neat and orderly stack.
It took me about an hour to gather everything up and walk the block or two to the bus stop. I donÂ’t think IÂ’ve ever moved so slowly in my life. When I got there, I sat on the bench and took forever trying to put on my shoes. I still had a long wait for the bus, so I decided I should probably get some food. Coffee and breakfast passed in slooooow motion. Back at the bus stop, the other guys showed up and we exchanged stories. Only two guys actually found our room for the night, another guy also slept under the trees. I donÂ’t remember what everyone else did.
I found out later that IÂ’d asked the waitress for a date, and sheÂ’d accepted. I had absolutely no recollection of it, in fact I thought the guys were screwing with me. But I called her at work, we talked and I did take her out. We had a good time, but it was just one date.
Camp Bullis turned out to be a very interesting environment.
Posted by: Ted at
04:30 PM | category: Boring Stories
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Me? I've got some plumbing to do (damn).
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08:03 AM | category: Square Pegs
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Man who run in front of car get tired.
Man who run behind car get exhausted.
Man with hand in pocket feel cocky all day.
Man who walk through airport turnstile sideways going to Bangkok.
Man with one chopstick go hungry.
Man who eat many prunes get good run for money.
Baseball is wrong: man with four balls cannot walk.
Panties not best thing on earth but next to best thing on earth.
Foolish man give wife grand piano, wise man give wife upright organ.
War does not determine who is right, war determine who is left.
Wife who put husband in doghouse soon find him in cat house.
Man who fight with wife all day get no piece at night.
It take many nails to build crib, but one screw to fill it.
Man who drive like hell bound to get there.
Man who live in glass house should change clothes in basement.
Man who fish in other man's well often catch crabs.
Man who fart in church sit in own pew.
Crowded elevator smell different to midget.
Posted by: Ted at
06:08 AM | category: Square Pegs
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November 10, 2003
Posted by: Ted at
08:37 PM | category: SciTech
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My church sign is in the extended entry.
Go here to make your own. Don't worry, we'll scoot over. more...
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09:36 AM | category: Square Pegs
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Baked Potato Soup
ingredients
2 medium potatoes (about 2 cups chopped)
3 Tbsp butter
1 cup diced onion
2 Tbsp flour
4 cups chicken stock
2 cups water
1/4 cup cornstarch (dissolved into a little warm water)
1 1/2 cup instant mashed potatoes
1 tsp salt
3/4 tsp pepper
1/2 tsp basil
1/8 tsp thyme
1 cup half & half
Garnish: shredded cheddar cheese, crumbled crisp bacon, chopped green onions
directions
1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees and bake potatoes until done (an hour or so). When cooked, remove from oven to cool*.
2. As potatoes cool, prepare soup by melting butter in a large saucepan, and saute onion until light brown. Add the flour to the onions and stir to make a roux.
3. Add the chicken stock, water, cornstarch, mashed potatoes and spices to the pot and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer 5 minutes.
4. Cut the potatoes in half lengthwise and scoop out the contents with a large spoon. Discard potato skin. Chop the baked potato with a large knife to make chunks about 1/2 inch in size.
5. Add chopped baked potato and half-and-half to the saucepan. Bring soup back to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer the soup for another 15 minutes or until it is thick.
Garnish and enjoy.
* If I know I'm going to make this soup, I'll go ahead and throw a couple of potatoes in the oven a day or two ahead of time if we're already using the oven. They'll keep in the fridge until you're ready to use them.
Posted by: Ted at
09:09 AM | category: Recipes
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It's also been called the strangest volcano on earth.
The late photographer and renowned volcano chaser Katia Krafft was captivated by what she called the "toy volcano" because its diminutive flows are cool enough to collect with a spoon.
"It's a perfect little laboratory volcano," agrees Barry Dawson of the University of Edinburgh.
There's more about this odd little piece of our planet here and here and here, including lots of pictures. If you can get your hands on a copy of the January 2003 issue of National Geographic magazine, there is an excellent article including some spectacular photographs.
Posted by: Ted at
08:41 AM | category: SciTech
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Forget who you are, and you'll fit right in
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05:50 AM | category: Links
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November 09, 2003
I'm going to eat a heapin' helping of crow now, and post my Jets Raiders jokes. I said I'd rework them where possible, so the second part will be the ones that just can't be changed because they're too Jet-specific. Yeah, I'm still slamming them some, because they still suck. Just not as bad as the Raiders.
God invented the Raiders so Cincinnati fans would have someone to make fun of.
BillÂ’s toe was invited to the Raiders training camp next year. ItÂ’s already the right color.
They considered playing some Raiders home games in Puerto Rico next year, but the Puerto Ricans said they didnÂ’t need pro football that bad. Raiders fans suggested Vieques. During the shelling.
The Raiders are to football what Marc Gastineau was to sportsmanship.
And modern dance, come to think of it.
The Raiders play like theyÂ’re channeling Linda Lovelace.
Al Davis felt the need for a change, so he hired Barry Manilow to write a new fight song. They didnÂ’t use the song, but fit him for a uniform in an effort to toughen up the defense.
ThereÂ’s three things you can count on from the Raiders this year. First, they suck. After that first thing, who cares what the other two are?
And their cheerleaders, jeez. They look like a cross between the tackling dummy and Carol Doda.
I mean, if the dumbest half of the Jets cheerleaders joined the Raiders squad, the average IQ of both groups would go up.
It’s just a rumor that President Bush has given the Air Force permission to shoot down the Raiders team plane in the interests of “National Dignity”.
After the disaster that this season has been, Coach Callahan is concerned that his career is over. Word is that heÂ’s currently in talks with Madonna.
Last year to this year - there hasnÂ’t been that big a dropoff since the last two minutes of Thelma and Louise.
The Raiders are trying a new slogan this year: “Homeless America’s Team”
The Queer Eye for the Straight Guy team offered to redesign the Raider uniforms, but backed out after discovering that ‘tight end’, ‘split end’, and ‘wide receiver’ were football positions and not job descriptions. Several players were reportedly disappointed. And embarrassed, because they thought the same thing.
Of course it’s spelled differently, but did you know that the phrase ‘Oakland Raiders’ is phonetically the same as the French words for ‘fight to the last man’?
Gannon might become the new spokesman for AARP. I guess Bill will have to look for a new gig.
Part of the problem with the Raiders offense is that, after watching the coaches diagram a play, half the team doesnÂ’t know if theyÂ’re supposed to be the hugs or the kisses.
The Raiders are positioning themselves to be the dominant team in that new league starting next year – the AARPFL.
Jets Jokes (and personal attacks against John Collins)
They took x-rays. Collins is not playing with a corked head.
Admit it. You miss Pete Carroll.
What exactly do you call that color? Sea green, putrid green, gan-green? The last time I saw that color, I was changing a baby diaper.
The waiting list for season tickets is long, but look at the bright side John. ItÂ’s probably like the New York voter registration, and half those folks are already deceased.
Collins bitched about having to pay to be on the waiting list for Jets season tickets. But look at how much money he's saved not having to buy Super Bowl tickets for the last 35 years.
While interviewing Vinnie TestaverdeÂ’s new girlfriend, she shyly admitted that she thought sheÂ’d have to be an archeologist in order to see a bone that old.
Face it, things can’t be going well when four of your best players leave to join the Redskins. That’s as bad as having your lifeboat rescued – by the Titanic.
A guy walks into a bar with a dachshund under his arm. The dog is wearing a Jets jersey, helmet and is holding Jets pom poms.
The bartender says,"Hey! No pets allowed in here! You'll have to leave!"
The man begs, "Look I am desperate. We're both big fans, my TV is broken, and this is the only place we can see the game!"
After securing a promise that the dog will behave,and warning him that if there is any trouble they will be thrown out,the bartender relents and allows them to stay in the bar and watch the game.
The game begins with the Jets receiving a kickoff. They march downfield stop at the 30,and kick a field goal.
With that the dog jumps up on the bar,and begins walking up and down the bar giving everyone a high-five.
The bartender says,"Wow that is the most amazing thing I've ever seen! What does the dog do if they score a touchdown?"
"I don't know," replies the owner, "I've only had him for four years."
Joe Namath proved that you can wear panty-hose and still be a man. John proves that all over again each and every day.
Remember that ditch they dug in front of John’s driveway? It was actually a 4” wide trench, but when you’re a Jets fan, every obstacle seems insurmountable.
I know exactly what that feels like.
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08:36 PM | category: Munuvian Daily Tattler
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Susie, you'll be glad to know that we watched through the open front door, so no Mookie was frozen even though last night was our first hard freeze of the season. Yeah, I dragged her all the way to the front door. Poor kid. 
more...
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09:18 AM | category: SciTech
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8pm and 11pm - Wild and Wierd Rockets
9pm and midnight - How High Can You Fly?
10pm and 1am - Supersonic Speed Demons
See here for their complete broadcast schedule for November.
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09:08 AM | category: Rocketry
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Damn, in that tube-top
You make me almost forget
That you are my cousin
BEAUTY
Naked in repose
Silvery silhouette girls
Adorn my mudflaps
REMORSE
A painful sadness
Can't fit big screen TV through
Double-wide's front door
DEPRIVED
In WalMart toy aisle
Wailing boy wants wrestling doll
Mama whups his ass
OPTIONS
Unemployment's out.
Hey, maybe I can get on
Disability
BLAZE
Distant siren screams
Dumb-ass Verne's been playing with
Gasoline again
A NEW MOON
Flashlights pierce darkness
No nightcrawlers to be found
Guess we'll gig some frogs
Posted by: Ted at
08:52 AM | category: Square Pegs
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