anaconda-dan's Blog

You gotta be kiddn' me! Well if nothing else, it meant a slow news day. Since when do we have to worry about what every nit-wit and attention whore finds offensive? Shame on the store in question for even reacting. And for the crybaby who was offended? Get a life, and get over it. It's a "costume" for cryin' out loud. What's next?

Problem with giving this story any coverage at all is, the whiners will be comin' out of the woodwork.

Now, perhaps if they showed Bin Laden SMOKING, that would be a different story...

How exciting is this? Sept 29th at 6PM CT.

Quest for Sunken Warships
Torpedo Alley
TV-PG, CC

In 1942 German U-boats turned the waters off Cape Hatteras North Carolina into a sea of death. For six months the marauding U-boats patrolled the area unchallenged, sinking countless ships that littered the ocean and beaches with oil, cargo and bodies.

You will notice as you watch, that the subplot of this show is the danger of wrek diving and decompression sickness (DCS).

So happens, as I was a part of the dive team, and ended up with a mild case of DCS, I got at least 15 seconds of airtime on the show.

Today is my wife's birthday.

Since last summer, when I had to put our 16 year-old cat, baby down, she's been talking about getting another. Perfect, I think. I shoot over to the local shelter and get her a rescue kitten. It'll be purrrfect!

WHERE ARE ALL OF THE CATS?

You would think, to hear all of the PETA people, that we are up to our necks in unwanted animals! Here I am people! Ready to take one of the millions of stray felines out of welfare and into the role of house pet.

But noooooo!

Oh well, not much I can do. But I'm afraid candy and a card aren't going to cut it this year...

 

Shoes.

Hundreds of shoes.

I was having a discussion with Randi at the 'palooza, and the subject of shoes came up. Randi's quite the fashionable gal, and as expected, took the opportunity to model a striking pair of pointy-toed marvels. As most of you know, my wife possesses a copious amount of footwear, but I am told she could be considered a piker when it comes to the selection of dead animal skins, and synthetics she has acquired over the years. Randi was careful to point out, that while she maintains a sizeable stable of pedometric accoutrements, her husband, by the way, keeps a large number of DVD's in residence. "Now what does someone need with all of those DVD's?" she pondered.

Indeed.

I, like many of my male counterparts, seem to be perfectly happy with plodding along in life, with the bare minimum of a pair of sneakers, some work shoes, and perhaps a sandal or two to wear in a more 'tropical' environment.

However, when one wished to escape the mundane world of practical footwear, what better conveyance than one of our favorite movies? A trip to Wally World? Pop in "Vacation". Feeling nostalgic and sporty? Slap Shot. (Especially when I feel like "puttin' on the foil, coach.")

Here are some more advantages to collecting DVD's over shoes….

1. Sappy, girlie DVD's can be used as coasters.

2. In an emergency, they can be used to signal the search and rescue helicopter.

3, Frisbee land on the roof? No problem. Pull out that copy of "Yentl", and practice the one-hop…

4. Out of appetizer plates? Ya Ya sisterhood, Steel Magnolias, and the like, make perfect serving dishes with a convenient hole in the middle for a shot glass.

5. Birds bothering your garden? Any DVD starring Leonardo DiCapprio can be tied to a stake with string to frighten them away.

I'm sure there are more ideas out there.

For me and Randi's husband's sake, let's hear some of yours!

Impossible.

St. Louis Mayors have never had balls.

 

I Slay me....

I can't belive you guys don't think this is some sort of 'miracle'...

On the other hand. How about pretending that someone kidnapped Randy, Paula, and Simon? What would you think about that?

Sorry. It's been a long day, and just like on here, I've heard the same thing over and over.

I did like the burning sponge thing, though...

My heartfelt appreciation goes out to all of you who have taken the time and trouble to send me e-mail "forwards" over the past 12 months. Thank you for making me feel safe, secure, blessed, and wealthy.

Extra thanks to whoever sent me the one about rat crap in the glue on envelopes, because I now have to go get a wet towel every time I need to seal an envelope.

Also, I have to scrub the top of every can I open for the same reason.

Because of your concern I no longer drink Coca Cola because it can remove toilet stains.

I no longer use Saran wrap in the microwave because it causes cancer.

I no longer check the coin return on pay phones because I could be pricked with a needle infected with AIDS.

I no longer use cancer-causing deodorants, even though I smell like a water buffalo on a hot day.

I no longer go to shopping malls because someone might drug me with a cologne sample and rob me.

I no longer receive packages from, nor send packages by, UPS or FedEx since they are actually Al Qaeda in disguise.

I no longer answer the phone, because someone will ask me to dial a number for which I will get a phone bill with calls to Jamaica, Uganda, Singapore and Uzbekistan.

I no longer eat KFC because their chickens are actually horrible mutant freaks with no eyes or feathers.

I no longer have any sneakers -- but that will change once I receive my free replacement pair from Nike.

I no longer have to buy expensive cookies from Neiman Marcus since I now have their recipe.

I no longer worry about my soul because at last count I have 363,214 angels looking out for me.

Thanks to you, I have learned that God only answers my prayers if I forward an e-mail to seven of my friends and make a wish within five minutes.

I no longer have any money because I gave it to a sick girl who is about to die in the hospital (for the 258th time) but that will change once I receive the $15,000 that Microsoft and AOL are sending me for participating in their special email program.

Yes, I want to thank you so much for looking out for me that I will now return the favor!

If you don't send this e-mail to at least 144,000 people in the next 7 minutes, a large pigeon with a wicked case of diarrhea will land on your head at 5:00 p.m. (EST) this afternoon. I know this will occur because it actually happened to a friend of my next door neighbor's ex-mother-in-law's second husband's cousin's beautician.

"Please accept with no obligation, implied or implicit, my best wishes for an environmentally conscious, socially responsible, low stress, non-addictive, gender neutral celebration of the winter solstice holiday, practiced with the most enjoyable traditions of religious persuasion or secular practices of your choice with respect for the religious/secular persuasions and/or traditions of others, or their choice not to practice religious or secular traditions at all.

I also wish you a fiscally successful, personally fulfilling and medically uncomplicated recognition of the onset of the generally accepted calendar year 2007, but not without due respect for the calendars of choice of other cultures whose contributions to society have helped make our country great (not to imply that the US is necessarily greater than any other country) and without regard to the race, creed, colour, age, physical ability, religious faith or sexual preference of the wishee.

By accepting this greeting, you are accepting these terms:

This greeting is subject to clarification or withdrawal. It is freely transferable with no alteration to the original greeting. It implies no promise by the wisher to actually implement any of the wishes for her/himself or others and is void where prohibited by law, and is revocable at the sole discretion of the wisher. This wish is warranted to perform as expected within the usual application of good tidings for a period of one year or until the issuance of a subsequent holiday greeting, whichever comes first, and warranty is limited to replacement of this wish or issuance of a new wish at the sole discretion of the wisher.

Disclaimer: No trees were harmed in the sending of this message; however, a significant number of electrons were slightly inconvenienced".

Really!
Mine’s vacuuming and doing dishes.
Strange huh?
Here’s a little background…
Almost 7 years ago my wife ruptured a disk in her back and, long story short, multiple surgeries and treatments have left her mostly unable to do everyday things. So I end up doing the majority of the household stuff. So tonight as I’m doing my “chores” I’m thinking, “I wonder if other men who perform the mundane tasks around the house think the same way I do?”
Vacuuming: Instant gratification. Piece of something on the carpet? Now you see it, now you don’t. And with the right technique, you get those little triangle shaped dealies in a pattern. Just like at the hotel!

Dishwashing: Now don’t get me wrong here. I’m not one of those Palmolive chicks, soaking dishes and looking dreamily out the window at the neighborhood. I’m talking Bosch dishwasher. Quick rinse, squirt some detergent, and off to the races. 5 minutes, tops. Sink’s clear, stove’s clear, looks like nobody’s been here.

Now apparently wiping counters and dusting I’m not so good at. So I’ve been told. Well you can’t be good at everything, right?

Mine are all too old now.
I'm getting the tree decorations out tonight and wondering why. Don't get me wrong, I love the Holiday season, but I think my fondness for it has to do with the excitement of the kids at this time of year. Early in December, my girls would be outside directing my efforts at Christmas lighting, because at one time I must have told them that that's how Santa finds our house. Christmas eve, putting together bicycles, and Barbie houses, and such the night before. Watching the fire in the fireplace with a glass of single-malt and a couple of cubes, and repositioning all of the toys and gifts to make the effect just perfect when the kids walked into the living room on Christmas morning.
I have a six-month-old granddaughter now, but alas, she's too young to be Christmas fun yet. Besides, I won't have the opportunity again to pretend to be asleep in the morning when the kids come busting into the bedroom to drag me out to see what Santa had brought them.
Certainly, seeing family and friends at this time of year is rewarding, but it's just not the same anymore.
Oh, and Pertzborn, Santa drank Bud at our house.. ;-)

Do these TV psychologists really help anyone? Or do we just watch to see other people's misery? Typically, therapy lasts for more than one 23-minute television show. Is there a danger to self-diagnosis (or spouse diagnosis) from a person who knows nothing about you?
My guess is that there is. So, pure entertainment or free psychoanalysis?

Do you think the other kids made fun of his name in grade school?