HAHA! Look at this video of some guy knocking stuff down with a forklift.
Well I finally got to take the BH T4 out for a spin today and it sure was interesting.
Let’s start with the beach, its just two blocks over but I didn’t want to hunt there the first time out. Really, I just don’t want a bunch of people staring at me while I try to figure this thing out. With my luck I’d step on someone gal’s engagement ring, fall to the ground with blood gushing from my foot requiring many stitches, and STILL wouldn’t have detected the ring. She’d just snatch it out from between a couple of bones and say “There it is”.
So I chose a tot-lot at the southend of the beach, in the pouring rain, with no one around except for a bunch of homeless people whom I’ll get to in a minute.
I don my slicker and wide brimmed sailing hat, rig the MD, insert the ear buds, cover the electronic goodies with a bag, put on the apron and off I go.
I wasn’t expecting much since this park is only about a year old, but practice I wanted, practice I got.
I started with the approach to the lot, but the ground is so darned hard I couldn’t dig anything without a full on shovel so I moved straight to the mulch. I searched the areas I thought would produce the best chance of finding some love: around the benches, swings and covered tables.
Oh, did I mention the homeless????
It didn’t take long to get my first “hit”. And let me tell you, that Tracker was singing a tune! As a matter-of-fact it was singing a looong, wiiiiide tune. Did any of you know that park benches could have concrete and steel holding them down????
I backed away from the bench and came up empty hand-tooled.
By the third bench I became acutely aware of some noise from around the first bench I checked out. I ignored it at first.
I moved on to the swings. Bam-O! Hit after hit. Holy crap a pocket spill! Yeehaw I’m on my way to paying this thing off.
Nope… You see, it turns out the construction crews who built the park must have cut the chain for the swings on site. Nice, huh. Half a dozen half-links later I move to the slides and the noise I heard before is louder. Much louder. It even has an angry quality about it.
First slide down and nothing but playground foundation.
Now I hear it. Well I’ll be damned but this homeless lady is having a fit over me “cheating”. WTH is that about??? No need to post what she was saying, but she sure wasn’t using nice language. Potty mouth. I seriously contemplated offering her my finds….
I hit the last slide and find nothing. The lady is flat out wigging and its pouring like mad. I’m leaving but on the way out I stop by the concession stand area. I already know I can’t dig so I hit the shrubbery in front of the window area.
Oh yea baby. A hit within 1 foot of me starting. Nail…
Wham! Another hit. Nail…
Kapow! Pulltab…. In the middle of ginormous red ant colony that appears pretty pissed off for some reason. Go figure, I only moved their mulch, scrapped a bunch of their dirt and in all likely hood I split the queen in a few pieces. Sheeze.
On that note I gathered my garbage, dumped it in a can, listened to my new friend serenade me one last time, dried off and left.
Frustrating, comical, enjoyable. I can’t wait to head out again. Oh, oh…. I hear thunder – Later….
I wud like a kool toy space ranjur for Xmas. I’v ben a gud boy all yeer.
Yer Friend, Billy
Nice spelling. You’re well on your way to a career in lawncare. How about I send you a book so you can learn to read and spell? I’m giving your brother the space ranger, at least HE can spell.
I have been a good girl al year. The only thing I ask for is peace and joy in the world for everybody!
Your parents smoked pot when they had you, didn’t they?
I don’t know if you can do this, but for Christmas I’d like for my mommy and daddy to get back together. Please see what you can do.
Look, your dad’s banging the babysitter like a screen door in a hurricane. Do you really think he’s gonna give that up to come back to your frigid mom who rides his golpher constantly? It’s time to give up the dream, let me send you some Legos instead.
I want a new bike, a Playstation 2, a train, some G.I. Joes, a dog, a drum kit, a pony and a tuba
Who names their kid “Francis” nowadays anyway. I bet you are gay. I’ll send you a Barbie
I left milk and cookies for you under the tree, and I left carrots for your reindeer outside the back door.
Milk gives me the runs and carrots make the deer fart in my face when riding in the sleigh. You want to do me a favor? Leave me a bottle of Scotch
What do you do the other 364 days of the year? Are you busy making toys?
Your friend, Thomas
All the toys are made in China. I have a condo in Vegas where I spend most of my time making low budget porno films. I unwind by drinking myself silly and squeezing the a$$e$ of cocktail waitresses while losing money at the craps table. Hey, you wanted to know.
Do you really see us when we are sleeping, do you really know when we are awake, like in the song?
Are you really that gullible? Good luck in whatever you do. I’m skipping your home.
I really what a puppy this year. Please, please, please, please, PLEASE can I have one?
That whiney begging crap may work with your parents, but it don’t work with me. You are getting a sweater again.
We don’t have a chimney in our house. How do you get into our home?
First stop calling yourself ”Marky”, that’s why you keep getting you’re golpher kicked at school. Second, you don’t live in a house, you live in a low-rent apartment complex. Third, I get inside your pad just like the boogeyman does, through your bedroom window. Sweet dreams.
Thanks to “mission” for the laugh!
Bundaberg Rum from Australia ran a very creative, funny ad recently that touched off a firestorm from the animal rights zealots at PETA. In response to PETA’s whining criticism, Bundaberg ran an apology well worth the one minute to watch.
Here’s a look at the first ad, Unfavourable Lie, PETA found so offensive.
Now here’s the most entertaining, apologetic commercial of the year.
I’d love to see more of this from more companies instead of their bending over, donations, etc they currently hide behind. Man up, grow a pair, stick to your guns and dig in your heals against organizations like PETA.
The first commercial was funny. The second commercial was funny too. But knowing it gets PETA’s gall makes it all hilarious.
Hilarious political ad from “Airplane” director David Zucker bringing to the forefront Ms Barbra Boxer’s arrogance.
My wife, son and I were just hanging out in bed enjoying each other’s company earlier, my two-year old son’s head on my right shoulder. We’d had a nice family day and a very nice meal at Outback Steakhouse on Laskin Road earlier, so we were in slow motion by early evening. Playtime had come and gone, bedtime was fast approaching.
As we were relaxing my wife told our son she was going to change his diaper. A necessary chore, but one he despises.
He said “no” and turned his head from left to right, never lifting it off my shoulder. He was being playful about it. Then out of the corner of my eye I saw his left heel begin to rise. I’m pretty sure I knew what was coming next, but I was helpless to stop it. Paralyzed by the terrifying sight.
I swear his foot reached a height I couldn’t have imagined. Then, as if commanded by a general, his foot came ripping down from what seemed the ceiling, smashing squarely down on my right testicle like a pile driver working overtime at Town Center. Thud. No, make that THUD! Not bang, not boom, not even crunch. Just THUD!
Now you have to excuse me from this point because much of this is fuzzy, but I’ll be as accurate as possible.
I crunched up in a fetal position in anticipation of the inevitable pain that would rise from below, one hand on what now must be a flat testicle, afraid to move for fear of something falling out of my pants, afraid to squeal like a scared girl. My other hand was just suspended in the air where it was when the aerial assault began, suspended in time.
I remained prone in this position for what seemed like 10 minutes, but it was mere moments. Yes, the pain was growing, rising, engulfing my midsection and spreading. I think my right leg went numb. My eyes maybe rolling around in their sockets.
As pain changed to numbness I became aware of my surroundings and myself. My jaw was clinched tight and about 2 inches out of alignment. My forehead and nose were so scrunched up they must have resembled raisins. (Yes, I get the metaphor…) Muscles were sore from being held tight.
Then I noticed the bed shaking ever so slightly. I looked over to my wife for sympathy and I swear she was LAUGHING! Not chuckling, LAUGHING!!! AND she’s changing the boy’s diaper! WTF?!?! Are you kidding me?!?! My junk was as flat as an IHOP pancake and she was laughing!!!
I turned away, seething, but there’s nothing that could be done. The fact is, we guys pretty much go dead when kicked like that. We just hold on to our important parts and wait for the pain to come, then for the pain to leave, and during that time we pray for everything to work properly when the cycle is complete.
Only time will tell.