tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36774709793121741922024-03-14T05:08:04.500-07:00The Daily DuffyA small town travel guide and other assessments.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger30125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3677470979312174192.post-27629816681128049862009-03-25T10:38:00.000-07:002009-03-25T11:01:32.226-07:00I'd like a sandwich!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnTcpjRNDJpONgd6Isn3Oh0JHQP_8oysR_KrZ0una5i8rKZIKMbdo7wC7C5Zda0oenGL3vJJj0VtgcxjaH7jvcNDCIBbzLGdjQAbtQgzjzGTomtEicHNdYwa8KV-SJB2IhQE0pZJmIyFuS/s1600-h/bw2c06_chicken_pesto_sandwich_lg.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnTcpjRNDJpONgd6Isn3Oh0JHQP_8oysR_KrZ0una5i8rKZIKMbdo7wC7C5Zda0oenGL3vJJj0VtgcxjaH7jvcNDCIBbzLGdjQAbtQgzjzGTomtEicHNdYwa8KV-SJB2IhQE0pZJmIyFuS/s320/bw2c06_chicken_pesto_sandwich_lg.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317185740922562738" border="0" /></a><br />Tomorrow you will make me sandwich. A sandwich of my choosing. It is to be prepared to a strict guide. A guide of which I will supply, right here and now. There will be no wavering from these strict specifications. Everything will be exactly as I request, down to the smallest of detail. If these instructions are not followed exactly, there will be severe consequences. So severe that I dare not taint this page with there mention. But believe me they're bad.<br /><br />The sandwich will be chicken breast with basil pesto mayo on a roll. This is nonnegotiable! You may be saying, "doesn't all pesto have basil?" Yes! It does. I'm just making sure.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiClosbze9B9zDR0T3jAgMYguFMSMd6Hl_6qiDbvzDHCxKUyX1RFhSZSKqPEsLHLS_ibEKE4bYMJjwrcvsXqdKRvjxaJdkUynluEZQrxQTltnZPyPT2M2VmWsXLc-aGWxKJbwYGKbEjWnX5/s1600-h/provo.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 185px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiClosbze9B9zDR0T3jAgMYguFMSMd6Hl_6qiDbvzDHCxKUyX1RFhSZSKqPEsLHLS_ibEKE4bYMJjwrcvsXqdKRvjxaJdkUynluEZQrxQTltnZPyPT2M2VmWsXLc-aGWxKJbwYGKbEjWnX5/s320/provo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317186256445930754" border="0" /></a><br />Provolone! This is the only cheese to be used. You will administer 2-3 slices depending on size. These slices will sit atop the breast, like a slightly melted dream floating through the peaceful night.<br /><br />In addition, when you grill my all white boneless chicken breast, I'd like a smattering of red chili flakes to be added! The flakes will serve as spicing agent that will induce thoughts of Flamenco dancing and dirty sex with Latins.<br /><br />And the bun.<br />The bun of course will be lightly toasted to a golden brown hue, not un-similar to that of a field of wheat, blowing in the Ohioan summer wind.<br /><br />Furthermore, a frugal amount of fresh, green leaf lettuce will accompany the rest, as it will sit atop the all white boneless breast and creamy provolone cheese, in such a way a sail boat might float across the Chesapeake bay in late September.<br /><br />I'd like chips!<br /><br />To wash it down, I would like one bottle of either Squirt or Coke. Bottles, mind you not cans. I find the aluminum to taint the beverage, much the same way a skunk may taint the fresh spring air of a gorgeous Georgian night.<br /><br /><br />Hello?<br /><br />Oh, ham and cheese? That's fine too.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3677470979312174192.post-49233831197803102702009-03-09T13:25:00.000-07:002009-07-08T12:56:06.109-07:00#$^# Hope!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvvlR2V3A3uluylmlXnni0ynzmx9JWdH09WTM7IqKkpIC44H1lbcLnTBNMZ4nYHoSmmL1LwtfwgXEH-WI3mGxr_4LzA_6e8OrPYPpm0oKpWEqTKX8iuZhbs5fVTCJgmG7nv29lfMyY-r-3/s1600-h/barack_obama.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvvlR2V3A3uluylmlXnni0ynzmx9JWdH09WTM7IqKkpIC44H1lbcLnTBNMZ4nYHoSmmL1LwtfwgXEH-WI3mGxr_4LzA_6e8OrPYPpm0oKpWEqTKX8iuZhbs5fVTCJgmG7nv29lfMyY-r-3/s320/barack_obama.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311294717589157074" border="0" /></a><br />What the fuck. This guy's been our leader for like two months already and I ain't seen change for shit! The fuckin' sun still gets in my eyes, I still get fuckin' hangovers, some asshole shot a preacher. Fuck this.<br /><br />What the fuck guy? I mean I'm still with you and all, I have hope and I got an Obama sticker on my fridge. But fuck. I Still gotta pay rent. I still can't walk around naked drinking beer in 80 degree weather all the time, as advertised.<br /><br />I was under the impression that a vote for Obama meant whatever I wanted to happen would happen. Well frankly I feel a little gypped. I still haven't slept with Beyonce' (or even met her for that matter), I still haven't received my Porsche or the keys to my new condo in South Beach. Did you think this election was all a game Mr. President? It ain't.<br /><br />Did you know that after all this talk about hope and change that, us, we the American people are still going to be expected to work? Seriously, I looked it up. What kind of change is that?<br /><br />Also, I heard that there is currently no plan in the works to stop making The Real Housewives of Orange County or American Idol. Change, my ass!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIA7QOyQe15LtILGzLZRVXAUv7FVen3CIvuzH31ggMSQqLH_t-KTn_MVl3MXxFI_hrtbbKGNGsZXCFeDedKXRKLufGIHPS0FIwZHPUV_hfC7lY544RGHjYxPn_hf3N8LlWqEWXok_mXWQp/s1600-h/Sno-Storm+Sno+Cone+Machine+Cart.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 179px; height: 189px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIA7QOyQe15LtILGzLZRVXAUv7FVen3CIvuzH31ggMSQqLH_t-KTn_MVl3MXxFI_hrtbbKGNGsZXCFeDedKXRKLufGIHPS0FIwZHPUV_hfC7lY544RGHjYxPn_hf3N8LlWqEWXok_mXWQp/s320/Sno-Storm+Sno+Cone+Machine+Cart.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311294877487670242" border="0" /></a><br /><br />And that's not all. It's cold as fuck and rainy outside and I heard that fixing it, ain't a part of this president's platform. Well what is? I mean we're at least still getting free sno-cone machines on every corner, right?<br /><br />I'm just saying, this is bullshit. I want some hope and some change and I want it now! If free cocaine doesn't start falling from the sky while awesome free concerts are on every street corner I'm gonna start campaigning impeachment. Oh and Government funded hookers too.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3677470979312174192.post-51782009205120730512009-02-10T15:29:00.000-08:002009-02-10T16:16:25.651-08:00Niagara Falls, NY<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVBxSZWwFGLMsVSyOa72Fun37-wMYrdCTNv8BmP8UAbpXpL-lACO59PyXLi41s8ejkalspFYOCbsQFFVuTzgySAd-UOHTGRUj2r_VetP9WH07iLckqfB4L_3AEajEEkTqctTiM-oVviBnK/s1600-h/Niagara+Falls+night.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVBxSZWwFGLMsVSyOa72Fun37-wMYrdCTNv8BmP8UAbpXpL-lACO59PyXLi41s8ejkalspFYOCbsQFFVuTzgySAd-UOHTGRUj2r_VetP9WH07iLckqfB4L_3AEajEEkTqctTiM-oVviBnK/s320/Niagara+Falls+night.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301315696061395698" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: left;">I once helped a man from a burning building, I was arrested cause he was a firefighter. I once tried to do a vigilante style prostitution sting, I was arrested for soliciting an undercover cop. I once told a judge that I was a spy and it was a matter of national security to let me go. Then I became a prison spy.<br /><br /><br />When life gives you lemons make lemonade. But don't make lemonade if all you have is lemons. It takes sugar and water too. There is no I in team. there is however an M and an E. I remember I once ran across a beautiful woman standing in the road. What a shame.<br /><br />If three's a crowd you need a bigger apartment. When giving advice always start with, "The way you're doing it is wrong. You fuck up!" This ensures you have their attention. Life comes at you fast, take lots of crystal meth in order to keep up.<br /><br />Sometimes in life you have good intentions that go wrong. Like the time I wore a birthday suit to a birthday party. Have you ever complimented a guy on his penis size at the urinal, turns out it doesn't come across as a compliment at all. For every positive action there is a negative reaction. Like the time I brought my cat to the tiger cage at the zoo so he could learn about his ancestry.<br /><br />When offering to pay for a meal say, "I got this you cheap fuckers." It'll save you hundreds on future dinner invites. Always load your gun before cleaning, that way the bullets are clean, too.<br /><br />There's only a small difference between buzzed and drunk, make sure you're good and drunk. Don't eat the stuff they put inside glow sticks to see if your poop is glowie. Always wear a condom during bestiality.<br /><br /><br />Don't count your chickens before they hatch is an ad slogan for poultry abortionists. On sunny days it's acceptable to go naked within a short distance of your home. Don't make funnel cake with the same funnel you change your oil with.<br /><br />When trying on clothes in a department store do 100 jumping jacks in them to make sure they breathe well when sweaty. When counting things in public do it loudly so people know what you're up to.<br /><br />Call six strangers everyday and tell them their spouse has been killed in a freak accident. They will be so relieved to find out they're still alive you'll probably make a friend for life.<br /><br />When buying produce take the time to squeeze every piece of produce in the store, this way you'll never miss a good one. When at the doctor tell them you have ED and challenge them to see for themselves.<br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3677470979312174192.post-10542293506326462832009-02-06T10:49:00.000-08:002009-02-06T15:17:50.339-08:00Ottowa, Canada<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPVuA2E7rK-Or0xSwnep5_G5Si-ZTTqA2VEJ9otsEJ14SZ3ZwW1vsafg43iTu0kjEnS-DiYs036rp8D6D1OaxrXWIrxwnNGkz4kyqGSR44PS9vQSmE1hdZkQxjd290rSkn3HMKOatZWm5L/s1600-h/ottawa-panorama1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 194px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPVuA2E7rK-Or0xSwnep5_G5Si-ZTTqA2VEJ9otsEJ14SZ3ZwW1vsafg43iTu0kjEnS-DiYs036rp8D6D1OaxrXWIrxwnNGkz4kyqGSR44PS9vQSmE1hdZkQxjd290rSkn3HMKOatZWm5L/s320/ottawa-panorama1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299758994672036034" border="0" /></a><br />Seems like old Bob can't get a fucking break. Just got this letter, intended for me, from the blog, <a href="http://thingsithinkithinkithink.blogspot.com/">Things I think I think I think.</a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Hey guy,<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Are you sure this is not a small town review of Ottawa Ontario? Cause your "ideas" sound a lot like those held by the Canadian agenda. Wait, wait, wait, are you a fucking canuck? That would really explain a lot, like why you like to wear jordash jeans and call everybody "hoser" and just generally do shit that was cool here in america like 20 years ago like some sort of mildly retarded little brother to the US who mom makes us play Monopoly with but then you choke on a hotel and step right on the middle of the board and then spill my rootbeer all over the bank! Why can't you get your own friends!?</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Maybe you're some sort of Canadian Spy? But why would Canada need spies since they don't have any bombs or army or anything since they still rely on the queen and Great Britain for all that shit? Bob Hall, you have really sent my mind on a wild roller coaster ride with this one, and I really just wanna get off before I puke, or get hit in the head by a goose like Fabio did.<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">THB</span></div><br /><br />First of all "guy", I'm not a spy. I'm a fucking super-spy. And no, I won't tell you for who because that wouldn't make me a very good spy would it? Also, if you claim to be such a patriot, why is the word America not capitalized but Canada is, like ten times in your letter.<br /><br />Although I do thank you for the Fabio thing, it was funny.<br /><br />Now as far as this sun thing goes, let's end this here and now. I'm going to place a poll on this blog. Blowing up half the sun, a good idea? or a great idea? You've all heard my reasons, but for those who need reminding here you go. Oh and I'll add few new ones too.<br /><br />1. It fucking deserves it.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGsG614PrF_TzkcnwXwR-UWD5RtOBnlOL_kbBsNGVIlwmi8BQHNGjepqx37tthaUtWjct4-xYptgB8ow4Xb5lRdrrttxDp_7rah9TT17KLVTkTDMMhEDXO14yqXP9B3NIFeBqfqHDnkoBJ/s1600-h/sun2previewws3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 178px; height: 175px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGsG614PrF_TzkcnwXwR-UWD5RtOBnlOL_kbBsNGVIlwmi8BQHNGjepqx37tthaUtWjct4-xYptgB8ow4Xb5lRdrrttxDp_7rah9TT17KLVTkTDMMhEDXO14yqXP9B3NIFeBqfqHDnkoBJ/s320/sun2previewws3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299766415438339618" border="0" /></a><br />2. Global warming.<br />3. It would be fun as fuck.<br />4. Sunglasses are really lame.<br />5. Why not?<br />6. We can.<br />7. It's too big.<br />8. Lyle Gorch is out of gas.<br />9. Can you imagine how loud it would be.<br />10. Spy reasons that I can't talk about right now.<br /><br />So that's it basically. Just go ahead and vote for what you think is right. If I lose I promise to spend a whole month reviewing cities in Canada. But if I win, ThingsIthink has to write a whole blog based on what a great spy I am.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3677470979312174192.post-65861695176695407942009-02-03T12:51:00.000-08:002009-02-03T13:19:15.808-08:00Littleton, NH (revisted)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKBZ8TDiycAsra16DdcfFTjVIGeXsBW-H4gL5RiTy_aBLYLkW9G7hjPlrHxR-d0Dx-RbNqQCygEIltohql_9ZoqHUKpK3A-4zgMkVWEPmV0gA9MU29eHHxlVx8gCprUnJwjlOTXXPAXAWU/s1600-h/monkey3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 296px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKBZ8TDiycAsra16DdcfFTjVIGeXsBW-H4gL5RiTy_aBLYLkW9G7hjPlrHxR-d0Dx-RbNqQCygEIltohql_9ZoqHUKpK3A-4zgMkVWEPmV0gA9MU29eHHxlVx8gCprUnJwjlOTXXPAXAWU/s320/monkey3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298682688238597602" border="0" /></a><br />Well it looks like I have some explaining to do. The post on Littleton, NH sure received a lot of feedback so I guess a little clarification is in order. To do this I'd like you to read this response and I'll explain afterward.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Lyle Gorch has left a new comment on your post "</span><a style="font-style: italic;" rel="nofollow" target="_blank" href="http://thedailyduffy.blogspot.com/2009/01/littleton-nh.html"><span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1233694344_0">Littleton, NH</span></a><span style="font-style: italic;">":</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Mr. Hall,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Its good to here from you. I hope you had a good christmas and shit. I did.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I went to Jimmys and we ate us some good squirrel -- it was squirrel season and shit.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">You should ahve come down for squirrel season. I bagged up a shitload this year -- more than Jimmy, again!</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Well, he did spend about two weeks of squirrel season in jail. He got all hgih on gas one day and shot up the school going after some squirrel family. You should of been there -- when them kids went a running I laughed so hard I dropped my gas can. I didn't even care if I spilt it and shit! You would of been laughing ... I no youre tuff casue you a spy.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Anway, I kicked Jimmy's ass this year. Big time!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">So I been trying to figure out your story ever since I red it up.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I don't git it.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">If my brians inside my head and I control my head -- I mean I can move that shit anytime I want to. I don't even have to think that hard to do it and shit.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">So don't that meen that I cntrol my brian to?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Everytime I thkni abotu it I just go over it round and round in my head -- like a monkey trying to fuck itself with its tail and shit.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">So last night during Hee-Haw I was thinkign about it and it hurt so much that I wnert to the gas.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">When I woke up in the front yard My Mom was screeming again, asking what was going thru my damn head.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">All I could think about was that moneky, fucking itself and shit.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">So tell me Mr. Hall -- who thought of that shit -- me or my brian?</span><br /><br />We'll Lyle, in your case both. Or neither as it we're. You see, when you drink gasoline your brain still exists on a physical level but not really on a mental level. When you woke up to your mom screaming it was cause the monkey was your mind.<br /><br />I hope this clears things up.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3677470979312174192.post-63270754925881153902009-01-27T14:57:00.000-08:002009-02-03T13:18:50.651-08:00Blow up half the sun (Pheonix, AZ)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7LvyaLbwPBwnIxBbo36Tx65NPhJcVipImpBgRlXaIjOUNdABPFjXmWNA5GW3sTlnDVWlqGZFDGGUoXoxneTEjCcSzFXyarRoA0WZ5faI_R09PqMW3YjjnFArFORu2Ypx6vGzwS7NSF92F/s1600-h/sun.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7LvyaLbwPBwnIxBbo36Tx65NPhJcVipImpBgRlXaIjOUNdABPFjXmWNA5GW3sTlnDVWlqGZFDGGUoXoxneTEjCcSzFXyarRoA0WZ5faI_R09PqMW3YjjnFArFORu2Ypx6vGzwS7NSF92F/s320/sun.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298655704805274178" border="0" /></a><br />If you blew up the whole sun it would be too dark all the time. Even though I like the nighttime the most, it would still suck if there was no day at all. But it is true that those super bright days when the sun is right in your eyes all the time are a bitch to concentrate on. So it is a bit of a sticky wicket. While I think we can all agree that something needs to be done about it, it's understandably debatable as to what.<br /><br />I propose blowing up half the sun. There area few reasons for this. Number one- the sun fucking deserves it. I mean let's be honest with ourselves, that fucker sits up there like some ancient god and just causes trouble for the rest of us. Sunburns, sunstroke, Sun-Chips. I mean what the fuck? Also, ever had something get ruined cause you left it in the sun for too long? Fuck it.<br /><br />Number two- Global warming. We could just nip that shit in the bud right then and there. Sorry Al Gore you'll have to find a new hobby.<br /><br />Number three- It would be fun as fuck. According to science people, the sun is like one big continuous explosion. What would be more fun than blowing up an explosion? It's like bacon wrapped bacon. genius.<br /><br />Now some people say only blow up a little bit of it. I say no. It's gonna be real expensive so let's get a good chunk of right off the bat. I think 50-percent is a good place to start. It's a lot but not a majority. We could always do more later.<br /><br />So that's it. I mean the sun has been causing a lot of problems for a lot of years I say it's time we got out out of the shade and did something about it? Who's with me?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3677470979312174192.post-89739136438199175462009-01-14T10:16:00.000-08:002009-01-14T10:43:58.934-08:00Beverly Hills, CAAnother example of the mind being a tricky little fucker.<br /><br />Watch the whole video before reading on.<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9j8EEc8yETM&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9j8EEc8yETM&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br />This poor fellow must have a particularly tricky mind. He probably woke up and wanted to go plant some vegetables in is garden or maybe even just drink some gasoline and play shuffleboard all day with his buds. But his mind had other ideas and you know what that means.<br /><br />His mind was like, "no lets instead tape a bunch of explosives on the end of a hammer." It had to have been his minds idea, I mean who else could think of that, him? No way. It also looks like this may have been an example of when minds get together and get a whole bunch of people to do things they don't want to. It's super dangerous when people put their minds together. That's when things get really out of hand.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3677470979312174192.post-11804965794255130152009-01-13T10:12:00.000-08:002009-01-13T10:40:52.711-08:00Littleton, NH<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZYQN_3i0-pSaO83B_IW1MwHoWkGHXsqUp1MER6oDg8ccluZ8kpnihj9-gslo_5SP7hBPGjT7RDf89IwbzQUNI5p07xDD8uVJuJ9yNA3zp0YUE0oTmv3wsX_hIkV_MTxrN2naNGcMCWwPP/s1600-h/burwellpic1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 279px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZYQN_3i0-pSaO83B_IW1MwHoWkGHXsqUp1MER6oDg8ccluZ8kpnihj9-gslo_5SP7hBPGjT7RDf89IwbzQUNI5p07xDD8uVJuJ9yNA3zp0YUE0oTmv3wsX_hIkV_MTxrN2naNGcMCWwPP/s320/burwellpic1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290843435708942162" border="0" /></a><br />Have you ever noticed how the mind can make you feel any way it wants you to feel. It's kind of scary when you think about it but our minds are controlling all of us. Whether we like it or not. Think you have free will and can do whatever you want? Think again. That pesky mind is gonna get in there and screw it up for you, it always does.<br /><br />I remember one time I wanted to go to a good college but then I realized that it was just my mind telling me that so I went and got drunk. Turns that was my mind too. Tricky bastard. I wonder if Lyle Gorches mind controls him too. I bet it does. I doubt anybody can get away with their mind not controlling them.<br /><br />Think about what you did last night. Or the night before. Or whatever you've ever done. Well, let's just start with last night. What'd you do? Got it. Now, ask yourself, did you think of doing that? Come on, be honest. I bet it wasn't you at all. It was your mind wasn't it? Tricky fucker.<br /><br />See that's how he gets away with doing it over and over and over again. He makes you think it was you all along. Oh yeah, I wanted to go get blasted on gasoline and poppers. Oh yeah, I wanted to drive my car off Mitchum Ranch Road. Wrong. It was your mind. Don't you see it now. You have no control over your life. You are just a prisoner of your mind being dragged through a series of tricks that your mind has orchestrated like a puppet master. I didn't even want to write this blog, but I guess you know who had other ideas.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJqOdM-6udw4qC_OTlcjHKehLTI5ug9-Z7hbDQow1tMsnrHzIf-aXhIQ01rMaIrG8CbsiAbZJIvxXXNX5zC0ZOZgxuAOtnRoFKZRIqCR5NogZqm8YIjNHNhSFXR9pi1DDPRLwoAnvAnOQN/s1600-h/perception-systems.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 293px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJqOdM-6udw4qC_OTlcjHKehLTI5ug9-Z7hbDQow1tMsnrHzIf-aXhIQ01rMaIrG8CbsiAbZJIvxXXNX5zC0ZOZgxuAOtnRoFKZRIqCR5NogZqm8YIjNHNhSFXR9pi1DDPRLwoAnvAnOQN/s320/perception-systems.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290850058830437410" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3677470979312174192.post-17637407848396284452008-10-29T12:08:00.000-07:002008-10-29T12:09:26.364-07:00Modesto, California<object id="utv_o_649671" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" height="320" width="400"><param value="http://www.ustream.tv/flash/live/317016" name="movie"><param value="true" name="allowFullScreen"><param value="always" name="allowScriptAccess"><param value="transparent" name="wmode"><param value="viewcount=false&autoplay=false&brand=embed&" name="flashvars"><embed name="utv_e_62417" id="utv_e_735645" flashvars="viewcount=false&autoplay=false&brand=embed&" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="transparent" src="http://www.ustream.tv/flash/live/317016" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="320" width="400"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3677470979312174192.post-80077382766322296872008-10-28T11:12:00.000-07:002008-10-28T11:36:25.542-07:00Clayton, Louisiana<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtdGOhLvI19kWc4t7N_y5MOZgXwLWqRsAT27XV60ZYdvvmi6hRlqB0BDx53qJrUnLlzQWYJQRDuq4OdRCRUcflVsRnjHOOrUWZKUx7dEWxwHwwa46eqdh9CufrFhkvcyg8w1N04WMvDC31/s1600-h/800px-Clayton,_LA,_cotton_gin_IMG_1225.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtdGOhLvI19kWc4t7N_y5MOZgXwLWqRsAT27XV60ZYdvvmi6hRlqB0BDx53qJrUnLlzQWYJQRDuq4OdRCRUcflVsRnjHOOrUWZKUx7dEWxwHwwa46eqdh9CufrFhkvcyg8w1N04WMvDC31/s320/800px-Clayton,_LA,_cotton_gin_IMG_1225.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262272387206776690" border="0" /></a><br /><p><b>Clayton</b> is a town in northern <span style="text-decoration: underline;">louisiana</span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Concordia_Parish,_Louisiana" title="Concordia Parish, Louisiana"></a><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States" title="United States"></a>. The population is 858. Cotton is a principal commodity in the area. Clayton is located on the Tensas River<span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span>, important for fishing and boating. </p> <p>Among the businesses in the community are Cross Keys Bank and David's Grocery.</p><p>And this is where I found one of Lyle Gorch's cousins who had all these family videos to show me.</p>Lyle Gorch<br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/NCSgMJBQXFI&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NCSgMJBQXFI&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3677470979312174192.post-84363216246309062112008-10-20T13:37:00.000-07:002008-10-20T13:50:28.344-07:00Blowing Rock, North Carolina<a style="font-family: georgia;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEUNCWKlI-v3k13iCt3LTKObMpNIrZyt0-9J-qsU2Mo814HuJTSU-CDES2m_XzfF4YeR5-hDuM2Q4FcbwmKbJEPHXDFvzZnceRuP4vu5amajbkGceMacVTHtINLTcDIELnX8NymhpPrbiJ/s1600-h/blowing_rock.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEUNCWKlI-v3k13iCt3LTKObMpNIrZyt0-9J-qsU2Mo814HuJTSU-CDES2m_XzfF4YeR5-hDuM2Q4FcbwmKbJEPHXDFvzZnceRuP4vu5amajbkGceMacVTHtINLTcDIELnX8NymhpPrbiJ/s320/blowing_rock.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259338266259335986" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><p style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" >Located high in the North Carolina hills on the Eastern Continental Divide (elevation 4,000 feet), Blowing Rock is a town for all seasons. The falls are spectacular, the winters have been compared to scenes from Currier and Ives, the springs are an explosion of wildflowers, and the summers are cool and comfortable. Perhaps that's why the population of 1,500 swells to more than 5,000 during the summer months.</span></p> <p style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" >Fans of Jan Karon's "Mitford" series of books will no doubt feel they've come home to Mitford upon arriving in Blowing Rock. The author lived in the town while writing her novels and used it as the model for her fictional village.</span></p><p style="font-family:georgia;">It's also one of the best places I've found t<span style="font-size:100%;">o go looking for recently retired spies. Or their wives. I find myself in Blowing Rock at least three or four times a year.</span></p><p>I keep getting more mail from our old friend Lyle Gorch. I'm not sure if it's his real name or not so I'm keeping my distance, he sure seems to know a lot about me. He could be a spy the I outspied years ago, coming back for his revenge. Anyway here's his latest.</p><br /><dl id="comments-block"><dt id="c449940446059623374"> <img src="https://www.blogger.com/img/anon16-rounded.gif" class="comment-icon" alt="Anonymous" /> <span dir="ltr">Lyle Gorch</span> said...</dt><dd><p>Mr. Hall,<br /><br />I like your websight and all, and I think if you ever came to my town we could hang out (it would be cool -- you like junkyards and shooting rats, right?) -- but man I got some anger for you.<br /><br />I don't if I like my letters to you being out there for everybody. I thought I was just writing you.<br /><br />So I talked to Jimmy, and he talked to his brother Karl who been arrested like 40 times and shit so he knows the law good.<br />Karl says is you need to be getting me some fucking cash if you's going to be putting my writing there for everybody.<br />That got me pissed, and I broke that Richard Petty clock I bought at the Bakersfield Flee Market. It was badass to -- made outta Bud cans and driftwood by some mexican.<br />It had what you call "sendimental" value. And Richard Petty kicked fucking ass! Now he's retired and that Mexican's probably dead, so I'll never get me a knew one.<br /><br />The ways I see it, you need to pay me. I fucking loved that clock (even if didn't work and all.)<br />Either that or Me, Jimmy and Karl is coming down there to whoop you ass! Karl knows karate so we're serious.<br /><br />-Lyle Gorch<br /><br /><br />P.S. - Don't get pissed Mr. Hall. I had to write that shit about whooping you ass cuz Karl and Jimmy was in the room.<br />I didn't want to look like a pussy while I was writing this and talking it to them.<br />Don't worry about me though. They'll never know I aopologized cuz they can't read. And I ain't going to tell them neither.<br /><br />I was lying about Karl knowing karate to. He said you'd be scared if I said that--worrying about numchucks and flying stars and shit -- but he don't know shit -- he just thinks Jackie Chan movies rock.</p> <p class="comment-timestamp">October 15, 2008 11:27 AM</p> <span class="item-control"><a style="border: medium none ;" onclick="" href="https://www.blogger.com/delete-comment.g?blogID=3677470979312174192&postID=449940446059623374" title="Delete Comment"><img style="border: medium none ;" src="https://www.blogger.com/img/icon_delete13.gif" alt="Delete" /></a></span> </dd><dt id="c3712951454465884884"> <img src="https://www.blogger.com/img/anon16-rounded.gif" class="comment-icon" alt="Anonymous" /> <span dir="ltr">lyle Gorch</span> said...</dt><dd><p>Mr. Hall,<br /><br />It's Lyle again. Who you doing?<br /><br />I ain't doing to well cause you ain't never answer my question. What in the hells going on?<br />Maybe I scared you by saying I was goign to kick you ass? But I hope not.<br />I was got fooling you and I guess showing off for Jimmy and Karl -- but like I said don't worry about them. They to ignorant to reed.<br /><br />It's just that I wrote to you like two days ago and and still nothing.<br />I'm a little upset. I couldn't even drink no gas last night (and that ain't happened since the day Dale Ernhardt died and when Channel 29 stopped playing Hee-Haw. Well, I also got pretty upset when Brittney shaved her head -- like some kind of freak or some shit!).<br />Even UFC wasn't no fun to watch last ight. I even tried watching some Mama's Family DVD's I gots from Jimmy for my birthday last year -- that didn't work neither. Fucking nothing.<br />Well, I did drink some gas before falling asleep on the couch.<br /><br />I juts keep telling myself that you on some spy mission or some shit. And maybe you to busy chasing Russians (or was it Americans -- I can't remember. Wait is you a double-spy? Damn, thatd' be way cool) to write some shit.<br /><br />It's just that I like to read about all them towns you visit, wishing it was me.<br />Sometimes I hate my town. I lived here my hole damn life so I get bored sometimes. We do have Squirrel season, but there ain't no real reason to live here.<br /><br />But it's cool.<br /><br />I got Satellite TV and there's lots of gas stations here (if you knows what I mean). You should visit -- we also got midget races every Saturday at the Bardstown Track just outside of town.<br /><br />One good bit of news ... I gots my job at the bowling alley back. Mr. Dinkle said he had three Mexicans working for the same cash he paid me, but once rhubarb season hit -- they was gone. So he needed me back.<br /><br />Mr. Dinkle also said that Jimmy could never come back cause he's a fucking drug addict. I neer busted a gut when I heard him say that.<br />Mr. Dinkle don't know shit. I can drink way more gas and huff way more of just about anything compared to Jimmy. (The only thing Jimmy can do more than me is he once beet me in a candy-corn eating contest. He eight 10 hole bags from KMart -- I eight seven and a half.)<br />Jimmy's almost as big a pussy as that Tyler dude who keeps fucking with you.<br />Even if Tyler thinks Tom Cruise is as Gay as I do, I still think he's the real candy ass.<br />You should watch out for that guy. I found a letter writing place of his out here on the interweb. I think I'm gitting in his head.<br /><br />But if I ever see him ... I'd hit him square in the face ... BOOM!! ... like the floor does Jimmy after he just dranks a hole gallon of unleaded!<br /><br />Your pal,<br /><br />Lyle Gorch<br /><br /><br />P.S. Now that I'm think about it, you should come to visit during Squirrel season. Like I always says to Jimmy, You ain't living till you shoot a family of Squirrels in face when you wasted on gas!<br /><br />Squirrel season starts the day after Thanksgiving in these parts, case your wondering.</p> <p class="comment-timestamp"><br /></p></dd></dl><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgviY4Ue3eeN7Qs8SpfA9gZG8ePAKrQRdrJGwBAHyyyfzeXbjeBfWCnv-7wYIXtlUI7SNdWHnUeokcyT4DwlTVY9l9K8BHEzotCjT70yjp5XVZjW96GmGggAE1C-e3ew63i6WJBfYWRMpk2/s1600-h/Spies_08.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgviY4Ue3eeN7Qs8SpfA9gZG8ePAKrQRdrJGwBAHyyyfzeXbjeBfWCnv-7wYIXtlUI7SNdWHnUeokcyT4DwlTVY9l9K8BHEzotCjT70yjp5XVZjW96GmGggAE1C-e3ew63i6WJBfYWRMpk2/s320/Spies_08.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259340599618613458" border="0" /></a></p><p>Lets this be a warning to you Mr. Lyle Gorche, if that's your real name.<br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></p><p><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></p><p><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3677470979312174192.post-27662786779577016772008-10-14T09:16:00.000-07:002008-10-14T09:58:51.523-07:00Attica, Ohio<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj85bTa3ZSTNGLGAoJpDQopjicqwESk1ih-lk7rh1AgQjGXogCa_5-PIu7OfI_oyteb0SZ86I9wUvmE8O_4qZmxGM1O-NK70BkklzA1HB2ZF_aLmo6tLes_HnFayIC_Z-KdpipSwcjdMFMy/s1600-h/deck1rgb.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj85bTa3ZSTNGLGAoJpDQopjicqwESk1ih-lk7rh1AgQjGXogCa_5-PIu7OfI_oyteb0SZ86I9wUvmE8O_4qZmxGM1O-NK70BkklzA1HB2ZF_aLmo6tLes_HnFayIC_Z-KdpipSwcjdMFMy/s320/deck1rgb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257044931906099906" border="0" /></a>The picture you see above you is of Lyle Gorch's grandfather and great grandfather. Lyle Gorch is this guy who might start posting to TDD pretty soon. He has some really good insight on things and I think he might be a pretty good spy.<br /><br /><br />Mr. Hall,<br /><br />Two things.<br /><br />One - you got me, I thought you were Jay Z there for a minute. I think I know how you became a spy.<br /><br />Two - I guess that Tyler guy isn't so bad. I like kids covered in shit to.<br /><br />My friend Jimmy has about four kids, I think. Every time I go over to his doublewide, I get so drunk that I usually piss on the floor. Not on purpose, but gasoline will fuck you up.<br />I ain't playing.<br />Have you ever tried it? If not you should cuz it's a good way to get fucked up.<br /><br />Anyway, I can't remember how many kids Jimmy has cause we drink a lot of gas -- we used to huff it, but that stopped working after awhile.<br /><br />So this one day two of his kids -- Tommy and that other one with the teeth-- were playing in the goat pasture next door. It's a farm owned by this Russian guy - maybe you know him. Well, I don't know if he's Russian, but talks funny so he must be something weird.<br />So Tommy comes runnin up screaming something about the other one is stuck or something -- we had just started with the gas so I can remember it a little. Anyway, we go over to that Russian's property and don't see nothing except a big old pile of goat shit. I never knew goats could shit that much, I mean Goddamn it was a big ole pile -- like that Russian had been taking them goats for Biscuits and Gravy at <span style="border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(0, 102, 204); background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; cursor: pointer; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1224003420_1">Cracker Barrel</span> for a whole year!<br />Jimmy walked over to the pile cause it was so big. And he started laughing. Turns out that other one had fallen in headfirst and was screaming like a fat pig before <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1224003420_2">Christmas</span>.<br />Jimmy reached into that shit and pulled him out by the ankles.<br />I laughed so damn hard that gas came clear out my nose!<br />Damn that was funny. You shoulda been there Mr. Hall.<br /><br />Lyle GorchUnknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3677470979312174192.post-33180881951698296292008-10-09T15:05:00.001-07:002008-10-09T15:37:01.396-07:00Eagar, Arizona<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoK5GpKHgpOWde-XIZpT7c8DD89FrLk55uTYcqKOSlpvX753HLmKVeuFJ0t7mceWpDcTYSwwSWut26v8jTxn3p4uoXY5OK95qmO5yueS08eGQn4nqN5tvWWP_I5VEux2upogtDuZCdXiXe/s1600-h/eager.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoK5GpKHgpOWde-XIZpT7c8DD89FrLk55uTYcqKOSlpvX753HLmKVeuFJ0t7mceWpDcTYSwwSWut26v8jTxn3p4uoXY5OK95qmO5yueS08eGQn4nqN5tvWWP_I5VEux2upogtDuZCdXiXe/s320/eager.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255278843046542466" border="0" /></a><br />Dear Mothers Cookies,<br /><br />While your passing comes sudden and without warning I prefer to remember the good times before you got old and “stale”. Summer evenings with a bag of the Chocolate Chip and a baseball game. Nights in high school sharing the Toffee with an innocent crush. Or at birthday parties when it seemed the one constant in life was a bag of sweetened rocks, ehem, I mean cookies. Whatever the memory and though we’ve been apart for a long time now, I’ll just miss knowing you were there.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqIEwcDl1SvL6sJK0n-yPLE7w6VDxJwN7HWCTjMLnIWTm60ufXk2pnvMqh8NjYazFXXKQB4UDZ21dmvI64v1bfpqBu0oJtvOWcHlGOtL6YCnloeDbv4iebdbwcWGA1o_T6BnBPzZaUWH39/s1600-h/mothers.gif"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqIEwcDl1SvL6sJK0n-yPLE7w6VDxJwN7HWCTjMLnIWTm60ufXk2pnvMqh8NjYazFXXKQB4UDZ21dmvI64v1bfpqBu0oJtvOWcHlGOtL6YCnloeDbv4iebdbwcWGA1o_T6BnBPzZaUWH39/s320/mothers.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255279028416530226" border="0" /></a><br /><br /> RIP MOTHERS COOKIES<br /><br /><br />Mothers Cookies, of Oakland, California closed its doors today after being in business since 1914.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3677470979312174192.post-23551994755690186402008-10-03T17:35:00.000-07:002008-10-03T17:48:11.814-07:00Essex, Connecticut<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAxesjFYdiZeEFU3-RcGlb_9quVbddnONG2-1sJQNBEhQKgcFJFDOTWkaV5uuYiOP11EaAWoX4QrZoO3mC8z7XqlvNvIazdtZ595SsSIZKDPozJatsM2ba_Qz6YswI9pUd5BMcT9N61cGc/s1600-h/BusinessthmbC.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAxesjFYdiZeEFU3-RcGlb_9quVbddnONG2-1sJQNBEhQKgcFJFDOTWkaV5uuYiOP11EaAWoX4QrZoO3mC8z7XqlvNvIazdtZ595SsSIZKDPozJatsM2ba_Qz6YswI9pUd5BMcT9N61cGc/s320/BusinessthmbC.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253093781202714978" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Normally I wouldn't have anything nice to say at all about Connecticut, because I know some real doueschebags from there, but this is different. I had a huge crush on a girl from Essex.<br />Me and this other kid named Kevin used to be totally in love her. Her name was Winnie Cooper. She had long black hair and really cute eyes and legs that you could tell were gonna be really hot when she was older. Any way he was a real pushy little fucker that Kevin Arnold. With his little smile and his perfectly worn Jets jacket, he ended up getting Winnie right out from under me.<br /><br />But a couple of days ago I was thinking about her and so I decided to look her up on the internet. What slut! There were like 100 pictures of her practically naked. My innocent little Winnie, a true modern day Jezebel. I mean Jesus, she really grew up in a good way.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYRTOpq8hMfRIUmx6ATVdn1KoecSpmPinv-jdqZ5wSnSO59CI-l5z4gITwAbsF5uYry5jJ1BxGLxXWXyG_jN37L8U3xi0BOMeZehi6pM-Z5piGD7jeArsEUiItFx9-acxWWLMEKGVWSLcK/s1600-h/url.htm"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYRTOpq8hMfRIUmx6ATVdn1KoecSpmPinv-jdqZ5wSnSO59CI-l5z4gITwAbsF5uYry5jJ1BxGLxXWXyG_jN37L8U3xi0BOMeZehi6pM-Z5piGD7jeArsEUiItFx9-acxWWLMEKGVWSLcK/s320/url.htm" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253093204595359906" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Her real name is Danica McKellar and she's just as hot as she was then, but now she's legal. Essex is a sex offender.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3677470979312174192.post-54233476418733957202008-10-01T00:19:00.000-07:002008-10-09T15:36:14.404-07:00Copperopolis, CaliforniaThis town has special meaning for Bob. Not just because it's, literally the gateway to the wondrous sierra foothills of California, but because it's very near where I grew up. I recently took a fishing trip with my wife and my dog in copper (as the locals say) and it was ,.....awesome.<br /><br />You see the town of Copperopilis is<br /><br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cxPDoKUsvQQ">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cxPDoKUsvQQ</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3677470979312174192.post-63115737315804997582008-09-25T09:47:00.000-07:002008-10-09T15:36:46.378-07:00Monongah, West Virginia<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC8Vcyd_lvgUr9uhZXlnBkueWJXVqq1DnKV94q-mpTRDeKroEAgaCFK64ezb5iKBLaMUOx1yM7IXTZiMmWticPH3eec-fB0OIIe9rqE3dxQFY860ItlDkvnCXwZSt3i_oZj5VnxbDZw01m/s1600-h/mono.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC8Vcyd_lvgUr9uhZXlnBkueWJXVqq1DnKV94q-mpTRDeKroEAgaCFK64ezb5iKBLaMUOx1yM7IXTZiMmWticPH3eec-fB0OIIe9rqE3dxQFY860ItlDkvnCXwZSt3i_oZj5VnxbDZw01m/s320/mono.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250007160425671746" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Dear Things I think I think I think,<br /><br />Thanks for apologizing to me for being so mean. It's not easy being the greatest living thing on the planet. Luckily I have Scientology and a really weird wife and kid who help me get through it. Oh and I'm gay.<br /><br />I really love being gay. It's so fun, just gaying out all the time. And since I've got a kid and a wife now most people don't suspect it anymore. The church of Scientology is really just one big gay. I love gay. Gay is great, or should I say gayte.<br /><br />One thing about being gay is that it's just so much more fun that not.<br /><br />We'll thanks for writing me hopefully you're having a gay time, too.<br /><br />Your gay friend -Tom Cruise<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5sd0zTKWvTT05vvKZimS9bSxD_z3JL-KltkkeVDCwr8P9bSNsQwVB6vbxRmrrEfNMiRuUk62G_FphDaU2u_CN7MLuvDhOq4OpCV4IhCLWEZGl1eHu9Y8Zl3EdhW_Q5MvS2CpXQKOTC_Vc/s1600-h/monument-1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5sd0zTKWvTT05vvKZimS9bSxD_z3JL-KltkkeVDCwr8P9bSNsQwVB6vbxRmrrEfNMiRuUk62G_FphDaU2u_CN7MLuvDhOq4OpCV4IhCLWEZGl1eHu9Y8Zl3EdhW_Q5MvS2CpXQKOTC_Vc/s320/monument-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250009150935886450" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Oh my god. I'm such a good fucking spy. You totally thought I was Tom Cruise, ha. No, never even met him. We'll that just goes to show you how easy it is to be a spy when your as wily as me.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdRzquHe6i52E0Rl1EQX1j7GD3X0TRz7bMMFNUWolXsgIwuK0MAQxh4yVbzw4yQ4b5DlugWOj0rhj_BartffpssbierOVNapbVOlJY5u8kmlZxNqwsxUM2K_6A9vFNcU-jAUwFSqj_M4rt/s1600-h/MONONGAH+DOWNTOWN+NOW.bmp"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdRzquHe6i52E0Rl1EQX1j7GD3X0TRz7bMMFNUWolXsgIwuK0MAQxh4yVbzw4yQ4b5DlugWOj0rhj_BartffpssbierOVNapbVOlJY5u8kmlZxNqwsxUM2K_6A9vFNcU-jAUwFSqj_M4rt/s320/MONONGAH+DOWNTOWN+NOW.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250010234223396562" border="0" /></a><br />Monongah has one registered sex offender, Tom Cruise.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3677470979312174192.post-58864312894406931662008-09-19T16:35:00.000-07:002008-09-19T17:59:45.715-07:00Duck Key, Florida<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5_6Mq47MsD_iiHOXxOQMvFxqXnBVE3HljSr1gbKAPpRA8XlUs-Xb_QqdxfbeG5Ikd8DHICDIZTnMtyTexrFkRz4QNAWs1kNZ4NhNZysOWdvqw7c3RRr83RtD-d5gXtuhK_koPE3owgywU/s1600-h/duckkey.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5_6Mq47MsD_iiHOXxOQMvFxqXnBVE3HljSr1gbKAPpRA8XlUs-Xb_QqdxfbeG5Ikd8DHICDIZTnMtyTexrFkRz4QNAWs1kNZ4NhNZysOWdvqw7c3RRr83RtD-d5gXtuhK_koPE3owgywU/s320/duckkey.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247887862015454018" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Duck Key, Florida is a key on the Florida key's. It has a population of 443 and is 0.9 miles sq.<br /><br />Have you ever noticed how people who are assholes <span style="font-style: italic;">and </span>not talented are the only ones that really fail. It's true. I've seen super nice people who are totally talentless at there job and people love 'em. And I've seen people who are the biggest dick-heads on earth, but since they're so good at there job they're really successful.<br /><br />Let's think of some examples of the first kind of 'halfgood" person. Remember these people are really shitty at what they do, but since they're good folks, people like 'em. The first person that comes to my mind is Drew Barrymore.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4QIKCLinBOiHIbh3YshtF07loWY0vsq15MZwWjStPkMOrncxodQxkbuDEWzJ8fQ8iFfu4Xxy_8Vk5HG02WpN0PiqfkJEJT3tCdQG1Kmo6sONOoHsxIVg3rbVNTbBIvjKZnyyEPWEglMqW/s1600-h/drew_barrymore_1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4QIKCLinBOiHIbh3YshtF07loWY0vsq15MZwWjStPkMOrncxodQxkbuDEWzJ8fQ8iFfu4Xxy_8Vk5HG02WpN0PiqfkJEJT3tCdQG1Kmo6sONOoHsxIVg3rbVNTbBIvjKZnyyEPWEglMqW/s320/drew_barrymore_1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247887642365503058" border="0" /></a><br />I've never met Drew Barrymore, but using this line of logic, she must be a really nice person. I mean, she must like, have a rape recovery center for puppies or something, because she couldn't fake an orgasm she's such a bad actress, but people really like her. Who else is in her category that we can think of? How about Carrot Top?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheo_aC8ep4eyvgo7IiySYtiRG4PCAnuz56cD0AtgXlIijpLgIA5tm3vA_B8yBtatOBFZgQjyf4ZW9Ghc2jAu2r3aSxPhGFva89-M7d1_YWAiHn1zPsmtMbMg4yGyaRF1kHhoTulK3VdDMK/s1600-h/carrot.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheo_aC8ep4eyvgo7IiySYtiRG4PCAnuz56cD0AtgXlIijpLgIA5tm3vA_B8yBtatOBFZgQjyf4ZW9Ghc2jAu2r3aSxPhGFva89-M7d1_YWAiHn1zPsmtMbMg4yGyaRF1kHhoTulK3VdDMK/s320/carrot.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247889188267801426" border="0" /></a>Carrot Top must be <span style="font-style: italic;">pretty</span> nice, you can tell not as nice as Drew because people only like him a little. Like he might have a rape recovery center for puppies, but he probably raped the puppies in the first place. Who else? That singer Pink, Oprah, and Matt Lauer all come to mind pretty quickly. You see, you can tell not only that they're nice because they're talentless mice foreskin yet still people like them, but you can tell how nice, by how many people like them. Oprah must be the nicest woman in the world. (maybe she even has a rape recovery center for Carrot Tops).<br /><br />What about the inverse? Lets see if that holds water. Oh, if you thought of that Tom Cruise so did I. That guy, you can tell is really talented, because everyone hates him but he's still successful.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcoQXKYhxiE6_mbSQWBEhu7IhdI8prnzxuW00c8hnkP5xuyRBI9e9yRRmqKsutvjgvLDDL_ywEvxq4BWazUsehHjPojX-MXliu87PwKia6qOSHWmF1keay0R2XF7U29QVr72YwaoruU-Uj/s1600-h/TomCruise%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcoQXKYhxiE6_mbSQWBEhu7IhdI8prnzxuW00c8hnkP5xuyRBI9e9yRRmqKsutvjgvLDDL_ywEvxq4BWazUsehHjPojX-MXliu87PwKia6qOSHWmF1keay0R2XF7U29QVr72YwaoruU-Uj/s320/TomCruise%5B1%5D.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247892475054845218" border="0" /></a><br />Tom Cruise most be the most talented actor in the universe. I bet he could play the part of a raped puppy recovering in a raped puppy recovery center owned by Drew Barrymore, he's so talented. Who else fits this mold? Terrel Owens, Eminem and Bill Gates all come to mind for me. What about you?<br /><br />Play this little game of thinking up people who fit in these categories with yourself sometime when you're not driving an automobile or raping. It's fun!<br /><br />Duck Key is all sexual offenders. It's actually home to a sex offender paradise resort called, Rape Island.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3677470979312174192.post-47214582021619519762008-09-18T15:01:00.000-07:002008-10-09T15:37:44.718-07:00Pardeeville, Wisconsin<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxXCoO7pTbQB-ATkISdRTGQiaYpDPnCoZidLgr780lp8xiwm957ZwZ3CjJEf3RQupEj-6Ew7iHXFjOgPM3m5PjF9Gb1K18DOs5u7-ExwjeJowg2QSH4QIwApiKDwU-GK5I4Lueyu6dKKym/s1600-h/pardeeville.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxXCoO7pTbQB-ATkISdRTGQiaYpDPnCoZidLgr780lp8xiwm957ZwZ3CjJEf3RQupEj-6Ew7iHXFjOgPM3m5PjF9Gb1K18DOs5u7-ExwjeJowg2QSH4QIwApiKDwU-GK5I4Lueyu6dKKym/s320/pardeeville.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247487462919277634" border="0" /></a> Before we get started let me just say, yeah it's a real town. Got that out of the way, here we go.<br /><br />Pardeeville has a watermelon festival on Labor day. You can do all sorts of things with watermelons, and they're quick to point out that it's 'all you can eat'. Some PARDEE.<br /><br />But the real meat of this entry is about a story I read in the Madison News.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-FiiCDGjiT8Lr1uCqiINVDmIqibnOeaZCXNJX9GHD5FwEkfYMucGlPnJ20rf7Fgfc3-IBLHWpnd0I1I1E62i3wnFpsCIFhMdmnfl11n4Ywm60hK8h6RUD2PQP8BEPN4dj9hPLFCOlJe9X/s1600-h/packersjersey.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-FiiCDGjiT8Lr1uCqiINVDmIqibnOeaZCXNJX9GHD5FwEkfYMucGlPnJ20rf7Fgfc3-IBLHWpnd0I1I1E62i3wnFpsCIFhMdmnfl11n4Ywm60hK8h6RUD2PQP8BEPN4dj9hPLFCOlJe9X/s320/packersjersey.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247515471176968322" border="0" /></a><br /><b class="Dateline">PARDEEVILLE, Wis. -- </b>Authorities in Columbia County said a 36-year-old man tied up his young son with tape after the boy refused to wear a Green Bay Packers jersey during the team's game last Saturday. Sheriff's Lt. Wayne Smith said Mathew Kowald was cited for disorderly conduct for the incident involving his 7-year-old son at their home in Pardeeville this past weekend. Kowald was accused of restraining the boy for an hour with tape and also taping a jersey onto him during that time.The father was arrested on Monday after his wife called authorities. Kowald was taken to the county jail and held until Wednesday, when he pleaded no contest, paid a fine of $186 and was released. Kowald defended his actions in a phone call to WISC-TV , saying that he did tie his child up but that it was in a playful manner."I taped his legs. He thought he couldn't get out; I let him out. The other two wanted me to do it to them to get him out," Kowald said. "It was just a joke, like, 'I'm not wearing them because you like them, dad.' I said, 'Yeah, you are.' We only had it on them, he took it off. Once the shirt was off, it was off."Kowald said that when police arrived at his door, he was stunned."I had no idea anything like this was even possible. It wasn't like I kept them there and trapped them. It was just when they couldn't get out, we let them out," Kowald said.The Columbia County clerk said that two felony charges Kowald was arrested on suspicion of -- causing mental harm to a child and false imprisonment -- were dropped on Wednesday morning. Kowald was expected to appear in Columbia County Circuit Court on Wednesday, but didn't have to appear because he wasn't charged with the two felonies.Columbia County District Attorney Jane Kohlwey said there wasn't enough evidence against the father to support felony charges. She said there is no physical injury to the child and that there is no evidence to warrant further evaluation of any emotional damage."I am in no way condoning this action by a parent, but I have to follow what the law says," Kohlwey said.Smith said that Kowald's wife filed a restraining order Wednesday, so Kowald will not be able to have contact with his family. Smith said other domestic issues have surfaced, though he wouldn't elaborate.<p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRF3_pmbbttxenijNUTlH-TxaLW5KsmRKCehytFD8vXHjZuRT2deuHM-27OuvpWQOewupK7q6s389n2WO0fCRpeAwSfNuMXhZKSV78-XA8ucofF_U2Y69cYt6DYnaUU9ZXFrTT4AHz3ha1/s1600-h/15066666.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRF3_pmbbttxenijNUTlH-TxaLW5KsmRKCehytFD8vXHjZuRT2deuHM-27OuvpWQOewupK7q6s389n2WO0fCRpeAwSfNuMXhZKSV78-XA8ucofF_U2Y69cYt6DYnaUU9ZXFrTT4AHz3ha1/s320/15066666.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247522949300140546" border="0" /></a></p><br /><br /><br /><br />I don't really even know where to start with this one, but here goes. First off, what the fuck is a kid in Wisconsin doing talking back to his folks? Especially a guy who looks like that. He looks like raping and strangling had a kid. And that's not all. The guy doesn't even think he did anything wrong. And who knows maybe he didn't. I mean, if my kid doesn't like the same team as me I think it's fair game to do what ever it takes. Why stop at taping a jersey to him? Why not take him down to the basement and make him watch Packers games for like ten days straight. If he still refuses force a Green Bay tattoo on him.<br /><br />My favorite part of the story is how he only got fined 186 dollars. Thats totally worth it. That's like cheaper than a baby sitter, and way more fun. I wonder what kind of tape it was? I hope duck tape, that's the kind I'm gonna use when I do it.<br /><br />We'll, see you next town. Remember, go Packers! Or Else!<br /><br />Pardeeville has at least one registered kid taper.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3677470979312174192.post-28873947283918794222008-09-14T16:02:00.000-07:002008-10-09T15:35:10.408-07:00Brooklyn, New York<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn6KNjx4lwgHwIsFNtQ7qsFNjbHbAKtDl7H_GDSvZ6ndfNr4oCUMbvi_s1aSu8ILUoyEDgyM-TGvuDs1PpIguoueGRsyppeXlyFcCLD4ATCkaqRCWr3Qphyphenhyphena2AmDaqreGM2zLM13mpsYTN/s1600-h/brooklyn_bridge_wtc.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn6KNjx4lwgHwIsFNtQ7qsFNjbHbAKtDl7H_GDSvZ6ndfNr4oCUMbvi_s1aSu8ILUoyEDgyM-TGvuDs1PpIguoueGRsyppeXlyFcCLD4ATCkaqRCWr3Qphyphenhyphena2AmDaqreGM2zLM13mpsYTN/s320/brooklyn_bridge_wtc.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246017640400514322" border="0" /></a><br />Dear, Things I think I think I think<br /><br />This is Jay Z. Bob Hall is visiting some places in the former USSR and says he's out of internet range for a while. I got the letter you wrote me, and it's really nice. I really appreciate other people letting me now how much they like me, because my life might suck otherwise. Being super rich, owning a basketball team and being married to the hottest woman alive just isn't enough.<br /><br />I also really liked your song.<br /><br /><br />HA HA HA!!!!<br />See how easy it is to be a spy and trick people? I just had you all believing I was Jay Z. It's not, it's Bob Hall just like always. Is Brooklyn a small town? No.<br /><br />We'll I just wanted to reiterate my point about how easy it is to be a spy. now you all know.<br /><br />Oh this was a funny thing I found.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYzytxyPeNPfMTrkHdvFzV0mOQBcxEIyiqAo2-xEt7QdaXLqvEB0clu9yZu2nKVHgJBILXM9wqxNTRwBhvX84oiYPLt-xZykY1ASXIphfmZdtJbJvCOPbIEpybzkkFx4jRXw957u9SQv_V/s1600-h/gettinmuddy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYzytxyPeNPfMTrkHdvFzV0mOQBcxEIyiqAo2-xEt7QdaXLqvEB0clu9yZu2nKVHgJBILXM9wqxNTRwBhvX84oiYPLt-xZykY1ASXIphfmZdtJbJvCOPbIEpybzkkFx4jRXw957u9SQv_V/s320/gettinmuddy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246019911755631330" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3677470979312174192.post-42932726443450236422008-09-04T13:42:00.000-07:002008-09-04T15:28:29.465-07:00Seymour, Indiana<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEnde2BebNi7viQmfeO3Jr0gcjOk29z8xb5JtmBMNDD087ghZhUTl21liqyWD9RjWry0mTp-oNb5zGFHaadogGrX316zVySUIsFYqkdO-sXGL2r-FvkaOu7srgDgYOyJNMz6zSNl5H0gSv/s1600-h/seymour+sign.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEnde2BebNi7viQmfeO3Jr0gcjOk29z8xb5JtmBMNDD087ghZhUTl21liqyWD9RjWry0mTp-oNb5zGFHaadogGrX316zVySUIsFYqkdO-sXGL2r-FvkaOu7srgDgYOyJNMz6zSNl5H0gSv/s320/seymour+sign.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242270826849320834" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:78%;"> (Seymour, Indiana is the home of small town legend John Cougar Mellancamp)</span><br /><br />My friend over at, <a href="http://thingsithinkithinkithink.blogspot.com/">Things I think I think I think</a>, wants to be a spy. He says just cause he had some dream about him being one, in Egypt, he has what it takes. We'll let me tell you something "spy guy". It takes more than a dream to become a spy. I should know, cause I am one.<br /><br />You see the first thing you need to know about being a real spy, is knowing what the word spy means.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"> spy |spī|</span><br /> noun ( pl. spies)<br /><br /> • a person who keeps watch on others secretly : [as adj. ] a spy camera.<br /><br />See it's a, secret, thing. It's all about the art of no one knowing who you are. So by writing a blog for thousands (or in your case, a few) to see, you've broken the first rule of espionage. It's gotta be a secret.<br /><br />And because of that, no one needs to know. And therefore, there is no schooling, or degree or even test. You just walk into a government building and act like a spy, ask for a bag of unmarked money for project "paperclip" or whatever, And when they say they never heard of you, you say, "<span style="font-weight: bold;">No shit, fuck head, that's because I'm a fucking spy." </span>Then look around real suspicious like, as if you're being followed.<br /><br />That's what I did. I walked into the Kremlin, in 1978 and said, "Hi, I'm Bob Hall, I'm an American spy and I'd like switch sides." And look at me now. Do you honestly think I'm running around every small shit-puke pimple of a town in the U.S. to write a fucking travel review? Do you know how retarded that sounds. No I'm the number one small town ex USSR spy man in what used to be the worlds second greatest superpower.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk_deou2PzTX2cpO-iBxJYVnd81u3uAkXREuC06f8gghAsb7CAwcRel9VeSXg5yTROUORHFA05wJVh3-uRAe9HTaGqeBevPI7acnf2KNDWyb4gg6cD9jfuCknsCUfX9Jv_PfspycreajCc/s1600-h/JohnM.gif"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk_deou2PzTX2cpO-iBxJYVnd81u3uAkXREuC06f8gghAsb7CAwcRel9VeSXg5yTROUORHFA05wJVh3-uRAe9HTaGqeBevPI7acnf2KNDWyb4gg6cD9jfuCknsCUfX9Jv_PfspycreajCc/s320/JohnM.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242275587261681602" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"> (John Cougar Mellancamp is not a spy. As far as know.)<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:130%;">You do have one thing right about being a world class spy. You can't ever buy a house or settle down (again, enter the travel review). But as far as money goes, I do OK. I just call the guys in Russia and tell them I need some more Rubles and there they are right in my bank account. If anyone ever gives me shit about it I say, "listen fuckface (of course in Russian), if you think Putin fucked us, just till you see what happens if this mission fails." That gets 'em every time.</span><br /><br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcxyb18vSExPNWYyDo3FQ6SsbpTmrR1mc5Nhm-7kuRll9BiD3tkddv9YEwtZDw6S-8lc3bEtkZIKpVTXPkEhQZiEhQ0f9sULDOBDM81cE6Zo51m8PV_9rgC-X5qn3hJ0MMY2e6bxYXnaX1/s1600-h/sshs-article1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcxyb18vSExPNWYyDo3FQ6SsbpTmrR1mc5Nhm-7kuRll9BiD3tkddv9YEwtZDw6S-8lc3bEtkZIKpVTXPkEhQZiEhQ0f9sULDOBDM81cE6Zo51m8PV_9rgC-X5qn3hJ0MMY2e6bxYXnaX1/s320/sshs-article1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242277017984088034" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"> (This is some funny article i found at the Seymour library, that some kid wrote in high school a long time ago. Or is it?)</span><br /><br />The other thing about espionage is, once you realize all the perks, the world is your oyster. The girls and martini's are really just the beginning. This is a picture of a cop car I stole just because I can, cause I'm a spy.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu8Gn5whKC4VAxd6Dd1A8ORWJG2oq4Oi1x6u-tN0AyExDVQPiMypMfUaUArA9z6urqj9pNh0eIiQEN8GF4HQ5PQK236E-MpZyUjJPp7ZSdpovvI3o5PC2JHmq7h9TdTUhc9HGnhWhktBb0/s1600-h/seymour.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu8Gn5whKC4VAxd6Dd1A8ORWJG2oq4Oi1x6u-tN0AyExDVQPiMypMfUaUArA9z6urqj9pNh0eIiQEN8GF4HQ5PQK236E-MpZyUjJPp7ZSdpovvI3o5PC2JHmq7h9TdTUhc9HGnhWhktBb0/s320/seymour.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242277898557543890" border="0" /></a><br />Even that's just the tip of the ice-burg though. I've gone on cruises, gotten free flying lessons, guns and even been to area 51. But it's all about how you go about it. I've met other spies and they say I'm a fake and have tried to get rid of me (luckily they had other "real" spy work to do), but I don't care. You see, as long as you're so undercover even they don't know who you are, you can't lose.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD0NJk6Nkty5LoEgzy5X0xkYXyDzRSE0TJN7YcQMoQYv1Vof691NOoSH2LVqmt2-QVH0NgCp2H_xI9Jx49K7NbHckrZUl8hb91py3JUGRI5CPxYkzjr-D6GUxxmmfmb2GND9d0u5n-I57E/s1600-h/Picture+1-1.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD0NJk6Nkty5LoEgzy5X0xkYXyDzRSE0TJN7YcQMoQYv1Vof691NOoSH2LVqmt2-QVH0NgCp2H_xI9Jx49K7NbHckrZUl8hb91py3JUGRI5CPxYkzjr-D6GUxxmmfmb2GND9d0u5n-I57E/s320/Picture+1-1.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242279819371483682" border="0" /></a><br />This is me in 1987. (I was super undercover that's why I'm dressed like that) I lost my fingers right here in Seymour. On a tough spy project.<br /> <br /> <iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyrys_HzBaM40CVGEay3IG2Bp__LFvgRcowhnZlBAFK8m5_0Wv_-tSuOFivLX5FOl-RbRCov8WkLrauWppS6A' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br />To anyone in the Russian government, I was just kidding about all that faking about being a spy, I really am one.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3677470979312174192.post-4751363327549265202008-09-03T10:47:00.000-07:002008-09-04T15:22:47.214-07:00Houston, Texas<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD77JLEzqk_jlMRDJQVceMZjJ_KLpLz9mhRjCE1NMFX1T0GZ5mAnLydDy37IQxt36gaI0cSUfSiE_0AYzklBjPSkU3FiJ19gU0tqc9worSf_V9eV_yO-tc5STDCAYfbMcNqi8gdQxj9G-6/s1600-h/things-to-do-in-houston.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD77JLEzqk_jlMRDJQVceMZjJ_KLpLz9mhRjCE1NMFX1T0GZ5mAnLydDy37IQxt36gaI0cSUfSiE_0AYzklBjPSkU3FiJ19gU0tqc9worSf_V9eV_yO-tc5STDCAYfbMcNqi8gdQxj9G-6/s320/things-to-do-in-houston.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241856399374748066" border="0" /></a><br />Ok, this isn't really a small town, but I read this news story and the story itself is really small town.<br /><br /><blockquote><p>HOUSTON — Investigators say a woman caused her husband’s death by giving him a sherry enema, leading to alcohol poisoning.</p> <p><strong>The enema caused his blood alcohol level to soar to 0.47 percent</strong> — almost six times the legal intoxication limit in Texas, a toxicology report showed.</p> <p>Tammy Jean Warner, 42, was indicted on a charge of negligent homicide. She is also charged with burning the will of her husband, Michael Warner, a month before his death on May 21.</p> <p>Michael Warner, a 58-year-old machine shop owner, had a long history of alcoholism but couldn’t ingest alcohol by mouth because of painful medical problems with his throat, said Lake Jackson, Texas, police detective Robert Turner. The enema was a way he could become intoxicated without drinking alcohol, Turner said.</p> <p>Turner said police think Warner gave her husband at least two large bottles of sherry, which is stronger than wine, in the enema.</p> <p>“We’re not talking about little bottles here,” Turner said, “These were at least 1.5-liter bottles.”</p><br /><p><br /></p><p>This is exactly the kind of small town living that gets me going. Can you imagine the conversation. "Honey you want a little sherry with your Chocolate Decadence?" I'm positive it was chocolate decadence.</p><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu0AO5jb7t388l_6FHsfZN5odjqI5S1vjg7eQe5lDTAUtYc5E8wxNQjJCU-eNnMkzq9cimBNIO2OtvxIgl-qkxNP4sxwTjk-zpOd9iWDazaaLyeswKHHYHZvSyiUHHg827eCQl9YCZpC0O/s1600-h/JPG_-_enema_kit.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu0AO5jb7t388l_6FHsfZN5odjqI5S1vjg7eQe5lDTAUtYc5E8wxNQjJCU-eNnMkzq9cimBNIO2OtvxIgl-qkxNP4sxwTjk-zpOd9iWDazaaLyeswKHHYHZvSyiUHHg827eCQl9YCZpC0O/s320/JPG_-_enema_kit.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241856519985677538" border="0" /></a><br />Then I found this-<br /><br /><blockquote><p><b>Woman Denies Sherry Enema Charge</b> </p> <p> HOUSTON (Reuters) - A Texas woman indicted last month for allegedly giving her husband a lethal sherry enema said he was an enema addict who did it to himself, a newspaper reported Thursday. </p> <p>Tammy Jean Warner said late husband Michael Warner had an alcohol problem and enjoyed giving himself wine or sherry enemas because his body would absorb the spirits more quickly that way. </p> <p>“That’s the way he went out and I’m sure that’s the way he wanted to go out because he loved his enemas,” she told the Houston Chronicle. </p> <p>Michael Warner, 58, died on May 21 and was found to have a blood alcohol level of 0.47 percent, or nearly six times the level considered too drunk to drive in Texas. </p> <p>Mrs. Warner, 42, is accused of giving her husband a sherry enema even though she knew alcohol was bad for this health and faces a charge of criminally negligent homicide. </p> <p> “There’s no way I could have gave my husband that enema, no way,” she said. </p> <p>Police in Lake Jackson, Texas, 40 miles south of Houston, said there was evidence that Mr. Warner had received two large bottles of sherry. </p> <p>“It all started back when he was a child,” Mrs. Warner explained. “His mother used to give him enemas all the time, and he started to depend on them.” </p> <p> “He did coffee enemas, he did Castile soap, Ivory soap,” she said. “He had enema recipes.” </p> <p>Mrs. Warner, a former bartender who got married to Warner in October 2002, is also charged with destroying his will, but she denied the charge, the Chronicle said. </p> <p>Currently free on $30,000 bail, she is scheduled to go to trial in July. If convicted, she faces up to two years in prison and a $10,000 fine on each charge.</p></blockquote><br /></blockquote>So you see, city people? You don't have to live in a small town to act like it. Now get out there and reverse your evolutionary process.<br /><br />Houston must have thousands of registered sex offenders.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3677470979312174192.post-14331321903478311942008-09-03T09:55:00.000-07:002008-09-04T15:29:52.064-07:00Starvation Heights, Oregon<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCH3SAkm6vd5-8edrPFvhB0t41_HRYJ_YqB4DcKTGkgP7ZT5BK3WcZnZvrjOqfrSoiqd8OODsj1wI3bE3nCRmMfA6w0uBssVH9U5ncRtHkeEx0q1_5RIiuR1lRkeLX29nFNCDB5lnoxyA-/s1600-h/Starvation+Heights.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCH3SAkm6vd5-8edrPFvhB0t41_HRYJ_YqB4DcKTGkgP7ZT5BK3WcZnZvrjOqfrSoiqd8OODsj1wI3bE3nCRmMfA6w0uBssVH9U5ncRtHkeEx0q1_5RIiuR1lRkeLX29nFNCDB5lnoxyA-/s320/Starvation+Heights.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241843698258758882" border="0" /></a>Well, sorry I've been away for a while. I've been up in Starvation Heights, OR. It's a quaint little place with a population of 23 (it was 27 but they had four murders last year). There's not much to do up in SH other than think about your life. So for the past three weeks I've been reflecting over politics and what I would do if I were to be elected.<br /><br />1. No more not drinking. I mean buck the fuck up and have a cocktail. It's ridiculous.<br /><br />2. No more being overly sensitve about things. If you someone tells you, you have a big ass you probably do.<br /><br />3. Gambling would be legal in all 300 states (read on, we're taking some shit over).<br /><br />4. Steroids would be mandatory for all pro sports. If you're gonna be making that kind of money there's gotta be some risk involved.<br /><br />5. Shitty ads are punishable by death.<br /><br />6. We invade Mexico tomorrow. NO borders= No border issues.<br /><br />7. All cities are banished and divided into small towns.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs31p0CZayxgx8iqs1Tp0KSEzBp5FhRW2pHO_HcVkEP6ipHhjLBr2FlKuKzLUDRCSzwpBryd5z7EWgoFKeT-pkuaAZ1Q0yt4sHaC5kMpUFYVKoytnVow4Mlx_SsgxdunHpamQ_eA5l1jmQ/s1600-h/Picture+2.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs31p0CZayxgx8iqs1Tp0KSEzBp5FhRW2pHO_HcVkEP6ipHhjLBr2FlKuKzLUDRCSzwpBryd5z7EWgoFKeT-pkuaAZ1Q0yt4sHaC5kMpUFYVKoytnVow4Mlx_SsgxdunHpamQ_eA5l1jmQ/s320/Picture+2.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241847072135510754" border="0" /></a><br /><br />That's it. Seven new rules to live by when I'm president. This is an overview of SH. There was no pictures of it on the internet except Google maps, and I traded my camera for a bottle of plum wine.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8KF5XKNea2Aa07_OlLQnwDCXmMJQr_-arEznPdPg4WEA6LVwONRfD0lFlvbuXQyTXcawQVheznsJ1OFLvOIn_POD7jE63TBpVC4ZdHirBcAFAedVPdryaXZfy-tEscWLqUNA7IFgAzCSc/s1600-h/starvationheights.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8KF5XKNea2Aa07_OlLQnwDCXmMJQr_-arEznPdPg4WEA6LVwONRfD0lFlvbuXQyTXcawQVheznsJ1OFLvOIn_POD7jE63TBpVC4ZdHirBcAFAedVPdryaXZfy-tEscWLqUNA7IFgAzCSc/s320/starvationheights.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241848822298884290" border="0" /></a><br /><br />This was my hotel. The Starvation Inn.<br /><br />Have you noticed how much dust is in sand? Like whats the difference really? Sand and dust are pretty much the same thing.<br /><br />There are no residents of SH that are not registered sex offenders.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3677470979312174192.post-76515431428134610832008-08-21T17:02:00.000-07:002008-10-09T15:35:49.750-07:00Canton, Kansas<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgncoHRDMAnktIKfS6Lc3o3njBa_UydZddZepJUk3HIlN_iye1bXyjFGcy5F2qrD1Yyxe73QQteYXfbV9pO97JtiIU0FJelnTYGbKo5IBy2L0WvPtxU_Bp0XEboKcnai3ncR1udCXYaEqfk/s1600-h/HotColdCantonKS.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgncoHRDMAnktIKfS6Lc3o3njBa_UydZddZepJUk3HIlN_iye1bXyjFGcy5F2qrD1Yyxe73QQteYXfbV9pO97JtiIU0FJelnTYGbKo5IBy2L0WvPtxU_Bp0XEboKcnai3ncR1udCXYaEqfk/s320/HotColdCantonKS.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237166553358983378" border="0" /></a><br />A friend of the DD recently pointed out to me, that popular television host, Stephen Colbert has been doing a little "small town reviewing" of his own. Well, we'll see if he's got his finger on the pulse of what makes a small town worth it's weight in violated farm animals.<br /><br />Apparently, Mr. Colbert has been giving towns with the name of <a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/26227337/">Canton quite a time</a>. We'll I decided to go Canton, and see if Mr. Colbert can match Bob Hall in the world of review. The challenge here is that there are at least eight Cantons in these United States. So I picked Canton, Kansas.<br /><br /><p><b>Canton</b> is a city in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/McPherson_County,_Kansas" title="McPherson County, Kansas">McPherson County</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kansas" title="Kansas">Kansas</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States" title="United States">United States</a>. The population was 829 at the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States_Census,_2000" title="United States Census, 2000" class="mw-redirect">2000 census</a>; the estimated population as of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/July_1" title="July 1">July 1</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2007" title="2007">2007</a>, was 797.</p>The first thing you notice about Canton is that it has two water towers, one says hot, the other says cold. This apparently was to attract tourists, I would have recommended getting rid of the open sewage pond in the middle of town square, but I guess both towers have normal tempatured water. Besides, how many tourists are gonna come to a town with 829 people. Not, many, my guess.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjokvFh4WrG5rC8QUeQ6QelXLx-GofRdt3z09EjbBrzaoxt_PEuYIIL43azEtvV6dxfmR7v1zNjYrrirN0p_6NGxBJVO2yxtvGur3ffW2E0Ai1UwTsDyP7oBWepNM9xGR5o7T-TIBEWygkq/s1600-h/cityhall.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjokvFh4WrG5rC8QUeQ6QelXLx-GofRdt3z09EjbBrzaoxt_PEuYIIL43azEtvV6dxfmR7v1zNjYrrirN0p_6NGxBJVO2yxtvGur3ffW2E0Ai1UwTsDyP7oBWepNM9xGR5o7T-TIBEWygkq/s320/cityhall.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237167714955475922" border="0" /></a><br />This is a picture of city hall I took. No shit. It also doubles as the police station, jail, and village bar, a quaint b&b. You wake up next to the prisoners.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikbvXRkzLfcmw0xC0LzJ4FVyVLpEN3AfwvVeSehvbkdI-9PULXqzSeeNisPbOPKvRdl4kZUpc6W5k_yqye1Rd6IJF95tFlDwGtt8rlKNsn1I5a834u_LH3db9r_ygDXx1whiHHwR0pDTCN/s1600-h/cantsign.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikbvXRkzLfcmw0xC0LzJ4FVyVLpEN3AfwvVeSehvbkdI-9PULXqzSeeNisPbOPKvRdl4kZUpc6W5k_yqye1Rd6IJF95tFlDwGtt8rlKNsn1I5a834u_LH3db9r_ygDXx1whiHHwR0pDTCN/s320/cantsign.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237377074004406514" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Apparently they have a wildlife refuge in Canton, although i didn't see it. I did see a small dim-sum cart being wheeled around by a man named Ho. The best pork buns I've ever had. Ho is a legend in town, everybody knows him and loves him.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3677470979312174192.post-47700973187709326592008-08-20T17:57:00.000-07:002008-10-09T15:38:16.943-07:00Newberry, Michigan<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNNEjHVKXB2KntdRkW3JI0qsC5SyHfHnj_CzW1k9OhJHbE5myAATHySUyJMGrONcNgRCZr-MLDFiOctQ0UoKPMpKVlmIaufuJ6mg8mZ1-pxtQXBKsRyTYL59kNSIP92uUbTYEeo6F1pVoN/s1600-h/newberry.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNNEjHVKXB2KntdRkW3JI0qsC5SyHfHnj_CzW1k9OhJHbE5myAATHySUyJMGrONcNgRCZr-MLDFiOctQ0UoKPMpKVlmIaufuJ6mg8mZ1-pxtQXBKsRyTYL59kNSIP92uUbTYEeo6F1pVoN/s320/newberry.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236774117204582226" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Well, well, fucking well. Looks like somebody's a little too good for the way Bob Hall writes a review. For free. Everyday. Without bitching. Traveling the country from small Podunk town to piece of shit village of hick-dicks.<br /><br />I pulled into Newberry last night only to check my internet at the only place in town that has ever heard of it, only to receive this in my inbox.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Q8b16e8eR-didVtpLAdbYoviQ6RMEmZvGtosZ29mFiEJH6doJrhu54vKHYS8wdE3hSOTAGwmGPSlKKBkp8Nmmhnally-34Tf4204_PSpZpAkIgkJ8uEaQrd2ND_yd-UMqx7G9ATtBBKm/s1600-h/Picture+3.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Q8b16e8eR-didVtpLAdbYoviQ6RMEmZvGtosZ29mFiEJH6doJrhu54vKHYS8wdE3hSOTAGwmGPSlKKBkp8Nmmhnally-34Tf4204_PSpZpAkIgkJ8uEaQrd2ND_yd-UMqx7G9ATtBBKm/s320/Picture+3.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236770311094056242" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Of course it's fucking plagiarism you shit brain. I didn't write it. But you know what? I didn't have to, cause I lived it. I lived it with my soul. I was there. I ate the shitty meatloaf that Mrs. Johnson thinks is so great, in Landlock, IL. I drank 9 shots of cow urine, to prove I was just like a local, in Tipyou, AR. I've lived these places I review, the least you can do is let the good people of WIkipedia research how many non-families live in Small, TX (real name).<br /><br />That been said. Newberry, MI is a town near the Great Lakes. They had a huge fire and that's about it.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY7dOkdkje1NzqqLkS9nxuznUDWq0ySyETkoTcI_1gbw5AbYz-wcgPnSuEY4dZCarFBQ3eRKUd_XQxc-oFA6Yv23JuYZy45n6oqPC0PxAgWinmi7-1gaxcFQYntEQaugFh9nzv77r760n5/s1600-h/newberry_fire7.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY7dOkdkje1NzqqLkS9nxuznUDWq0ySyETkoTcI_1gbw5AbYz-wcgPnSuEY4dZCarFBQ3eRKUd_XQxc-oFA6Yv23JuYZy45n6oqPC0PxAgWinmi7-1gaxcFQYntEQaugFh9nzv77r760n5/s320/newberry_fire7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236773540982331522" border="0" /></a><br />Newberry, Michigan has 19 registered sex offenders.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3677470979312174192.post-8478449691808022072008-08-19T15:29:00.000-07:002008-10-09T15:34:34.515-07:00Snyder, Texas<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw0nB1POJx9AT9SKayFerJSY6hXhGUAQFNSM_BSx2jMfu7xTsi9r7KpluGo1o-LWxutEPM8qPkJvtuHE10wmX0tni8co4j6fDeMSPTvN5_KDk_NCKKJN5yWWA-aea-i4FSpkdv0tVasv2n/s1600-h/welcome1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw0nB1POJx9AT9SKayFerJSY6hXhGUAQFNSM_BSx2jMfu7xTsi9r7KpluGo1o-LWxutEPM8qPkJvtuHE10wmX0tni8co4j6fDeMSPTvN5_KDk_NCKKJN5yWWA-aea-i4FSpkdv0tVasv2n/s320/welcome1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236375267080319298" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiknrM-ztxirF8yvWUby2Rr7dVnRkfaNkV1mTGlV8crFJVYroQnP9FmLmJMm7lsCUWwkbAlEC25jcYSdpcKLsEZAMdM1beQbJlRBTlSyaZSsKgHTwANvliUte6xJKhoof7LlnZjKrqBCUN9/s1600-h/banner11-13-07.gif"><br /></a><p><b>Snyder</b> is a city in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scurry_County,_Texas" title="Scurry County, Texas">Scurry County</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Texas" title="Texas">Texas</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States" title="United States">United States</a>. The population was 10,783 at the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2000" title="2000">2000</a> <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Census" title="Census">census</a>. It is the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/County_seat" title="County seat">county seat</a> of Scurry County and is located on Deep Creek, a minor <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tributary" title="Tributary">tributary</a> of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Colorado_River_%28Texas%29" title="Colorado River (Texas)">Colorado River</a>. Snyder is approximately ninety miles south of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lubbock,_Texas" title="Lubbock, Texas">Lubbock</a>.</p> <p>Snyder is home of the Scurry County Coliseum, a large meeting hall which hosts many area events. Including the annual Man Up, Sheep Down festival the last week in July.<br /></p><p>It should first be noted that actor, Powers Boothe, is from Snyder.</p><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEwl5mJWBEV6YF7Zu_sZ6_sTs3pA4dpq_ACSdJdFWSiSm9aJE6M1qSF7j4e_EspjgyT0VYuMIVVPMBIugHOhHIBwG4YzJp4F5g1iLmtLuA0DLapFBHb-QM213Q9iqUbG1_E6B6TckwusI2/s1600-h/aroundpreo.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEwl5mJWBEV6YF7Zu_sZ6_sTs3pA4dpq_ACSdJdFWSiSm9aJE6M1qSF7j4e_EspjgyT0VYuMIVVPMBIugHOhHIBwG4YzJp4F5g1iLmtLuA0DLapFBHb-QM213Q9iqUbG1_E6B6TckwusI2/s320/aroundpreo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236363499032222274" border="0" /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></a></p><p>Powers is most known for his 1980 Emmy award winning portrayal of Jim Jones. He's also been, among other things, the vice president on 24 and the voice of Major bridges on the video game, Area 51, and most recently a narrator for a John McCain TV campaign spot.</p><p>There is a huge museum dedicated to the life and fame of Powers Boothe.</p>Snyder is a town that is bigger than it's britches, which is fitting because most of its residents are too. Out of the little more than 10,000 people who live there I'd say 9500 are too heavy. The tower pictured below is not full of water, but of mayonnaise.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLvcgMumxENALg2KQHJpviB20i6rbgxwIguzGkkOGE_OLIEwnNaJtx8AyQAAAYDkGt9kLzNf7gC49mGqXYB-qO4m8b2iXl11IDDhHMFt8O0WkGBKtOrIMJSaaqOxro0GNtvGs-neuwqIzx/s1600-h/water_tower_snyder_texas_1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLvcgMumxENALg2KQHJpviB20i6rbgxwIguzGkkOGE_OLIEwnNaJtx8AyQAAAYDkGt9kLzNf7gC49mGqXYB-qO4m8b2iXl11IDDhHMFt8O0WkGBKtOrIMJSaaqOxro0GNtvGs-neuwqIzx/s320/water_tower_snyder_texas_1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236365970420473154" border="0" /><span style="display: block;" id="formatbar_Buttons"><span class="on" style="display: block;" id="formatbar_CreateLink" title="Link" onmouseover="ButtonHoverOn(this);" onmouseout="ButtonHoverOff(this);" onmouseup="" onmousedown="CheckFormatting(event);FormatbarButton('richeditorframe', this, 8);ButtonMouseDown(this);"></span></span></a><br />If you look close you can see a worn path where the townspeople line up for daily feedings.<br /><br />But, it's not all bad in Snyder. They have a beautiful park downtown where you can sit and hang out with the locals. Kick back and enjoy a lemonade on the old wooden bench in front of Biggie's Lemonade and Such, and enjoy a truly rare version Texas hospitality.<br /><br />They got a great whorehouse, too, from what I hear.<br /><br />Just down the road, <a href="http://http//countryviewsnyder.com/town.html">The Country View R.V. Park (seriously check out this site),</a>is where the night life action heats up. If you've never boogied down to "Jump", around the the back side of a double-wide while pounding shots of Chablis under the Texas moon, well you probably don't need penicillin.<br /><br />Anyway, I guess Snyder is fine for a town in north central Texas.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0