The time rolls back one hour tonight. This means an extra hour of sleep for those who observe the Daylight Savings Time rule each year. Not every state observes this practice, though. Arizona and Hawaii are the only two states who do not, and stay on ‘Standard Time‘ all year.
I find it strange how some people are effected by just one hour adjustment in time either way. I often wonder if this change in the body clock is actually a physical thing or psychological. I tend to think it is a combination of both.
As for me, I only get around three to five hours sleep a night (but cat-nap during the day) and my body is not controlled by a strict regiment or routine. So when the time changes, it means nothing to me. Except for one time.
During my boot-camp training at the US Naval Training Center San Diego (Co. 537, 1962), there is a week called ‘Service Week.’ During the forth week of training each company has to perform services for the rest of the boot-camp trainees. My company (except me) had to pull service in the chow-hall. This meant that we had to get up 4:00 A.M. to get to the chow hall to prepare for breakfast, wash pots and pans and clean up afterward, take a small break and start up again for the noon meal and again for the dinner meal, finishing up around 8:00 P.M.
Then you had to go back to the barracks and wash clothes and hang them out to dry overnight (hoping it didn’t rain.) This meant that lights-out was at 10:00 P.M. and those who were behind had to work in the dark, stand watch, or pass out form exhaustion only to be awaken at 4:00 A.M.
I said the this was my companies life that week but not me. I was given the assignment of being a messenger for the Master at Arms in the Admin Building. I delivered messages and packages all over the base on a bicycle, and I had to march the men in the brig over for meals (not a fun thing.) But much of the time was spent in the office of the Master at Arms reading books on Naval History and other military related stuff. But I still had to wake up with the company and do all the A.M. chores required by each company like cleaning the showers and the head (Navy term for shitter - uh - bathroom) and sweeping and swabbing (mopping) the barracks. This fell on me as I didn’t have to report to the Adman Building until 8:00 A.M.
But that October Saturday night of week 4 was the fall changing of the time and everyone got an extra hour sleep.
It was amazing how much happier and rested we felt with that one extra hour sleep. And it was Sunday morning and the last day of service week. It was like Christmas morning. The guys were laughing and joking around while the Shit, Shower and Shaving was going on. Even the recruits coming in for the meals seemed happier. And we kept telling each other that it was the extra hour sleep that made the difference. Did it? Or did we just think it did? Don’t know for sure.
So I guess it does play in physically as well as mentally how the time change effects us (uh, y’all.) How does it effect you?
But more important, don’t forget to change your clocks back tonight, no matter if you are in boot-camp or not.
I went to the doctor today. I just wasn’t getting better and actually felt a little worse, so I made the phone call. Good news is I don’t have the flu of any variation. Bad news is I have a bug of come kind. I called Orkin, but they wouldn’t come out.
So I did the next best thing. I got the doctor to give me a prescription for some antibiotics. There is nothing that can be done for a viral infection, but the coughing and stuff that is in the ‘bug’ category can be handled, controlled, or hopefully cured with a good antibiotic. I was assigned a drug called Clarithromycin ER. I will have to wait a day or two to see how great this drug is for my old body.
But let me ask you something. One the label, along with personal information and phone numbers and stuff is this instruction: “Take two tablets by mouth every day with food.” Now I have no problem with the two tablets every day with food. But why the by mouth?
Do you really believe that there are some people out there who would take the vile of pills and read the instructions without the ‘by mouth’ and not know that it is to be taken my mouth? Someone who would take the vile and say, “Man, I think I will put the two pills up each nostril and let the snot dissolve them.” or “ I wonder if the antibiotics with get into my system faster if I put one in each ear?” Maybe they would think that they would add a little sexy excitement to their life by shoving the two pills up their ass.
Okay, I know I’m not hip (if y’all even say that word anymore) to many of the new words and sayings like ‘Word’ or ’Snap’ or ‘Fazzile’ or "May ah gank some toothpaste? All ye damn hood ratz." But are people just that stupid that they have to be told to take the pills by mouth? To me, when a doctor or pharmacist gives you a vile of pills, unless it specifically states to shove one up your ass or dissolve in water or juice, I am going to take it by mouth. How ‘bout you?
The Navy Chief noticed a new seaman and barked at him, "You! Get over here! What's your name sailor?"
"John," the new seaman replied.
"Look, I don't know what kind of bleeding-heart pansy crap they're teaching sailors in boot camp these days, but I don't call anyone by his first name," the chief scowled. "It breeds familiarity, and that leads to a breakdown in authority. I refer to my sailors by their last names only; Smith, Jones, Baker, whatever. And you are to refer to me as 'Chief'. Do I make myself clear?"
"Aye, Aye Chief!"
"Now that we've got that straight, what's your last name?"
The seaman sighed. "Darling, My name is John Darling, Chief."
An elderly gent was invited to an old friend's home for dinner one evening. He was impressed by the way his buddy preceded every request to his wife with endearing terms such as: Honey, My Love, Darling, Sweetheart, Pumpkin, etc. The couple had been married almost 70 years and, clearly, they were still very much in love.
While the wife was in the kitchen, the man leaned over to his host, "I think it's wonderful that, after all these years, you still call your wife those loving pet names."
The old man hung his head. "I have to tell you the truth," he said, "Her name slipped my mind about 10 years ago, and I'm scared to death to ask the cranky old bitch what it is."
Peeps, let me take a break on the humor and idocy here to let you know there is a new blogger among us who is trying to get his feet wet and pass on his thoughts and stories of his service in Iraq and at home. Hope (at Hope Radio on my blog roll) pimped him first and now it’s my turn.
He calls himself Dacker and he is on my blog roll as Some Iraq Veteran (http://www.someiraqveteran.com/). So far he has posted some pretty good stuff, especially about his visits to his local VA Hospital for help with his PTSD. Nothing self-pitting, but about his observations during the visit. He’s a cool dude and you would be remiss if you don’t stop by and give him a boost up the blog ladder. He deserves to be heard.
As an example of his commitment to blogging he posted this YouTube video and gave me permission and encouragement to pass it on. This is very powerful stuff and any of you who wish to plug it into your site or e-mail it to your peeps (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3czbVcwowlQ), please do so.
The bottom line is this is a war in Afghanistan and it is going bad for our guys because of indecision by a very inept leader who has no business being in office. He is more concerned with sending us into bankruptcy and apologizing to the world for the U.S. being the greatest country in history. He was more concerned with getting the Olympics to Chicago than for the men who died while the was making a fool of himself. Chicago came in 4th place in the running.
Watch this and think about what is happening over there. He is no leader and he is responsible for the rising death toll in that shit hole of a place. God bless our troops and the USA.
I have told this story before of how I almost got killed while being on a horse.
It’s not one of my most fond memories, but I was over at Rose’s place (The Fuse Is Lit on my blog roll) reading about her former morning ritual with her horse that made me remember it. However, Rose’s story made me want to join her and just breath. Almost. I still have flashbacks to the horrendous day that makes me think before I do something like that.
It started out innocently enough with the sun shinning over a cloudless sky. The horse was there all saddled up and waiting. I did my administrations and climbed onto the saddle. But before I could get seated properly and my feet in both stirrups, the damn thing started jerking around.
The horse was going up and down and back and forth and I was hanging on for my life. I was screaming for help and, despite my death hold on the neck, I started sliding of the side. I was trying to find the stirrup to put my foot in to stop the sliding, but it was no where to be found - not that I had the time to look for it.
Between my fear, the pain in my arms from holding on to his neck so thigh and was beginning to loose grip, my screaming for help, and the unstoppable movement of the horse I was sure I was going to die.
Finally my arms begin to give way and I was sliding further off the horse. I just knew I was going under the wildly gyrating thing and be crushed to death. I was finally hanging on with one hand on the withers of the neck but was just about to fall under the damn thing when the Wal Mart manager ran out and unplugged the ride.
Well it is a brilliant idea from my friend Stacy Artis. At least women can feel safe now in Australia.
Another New Law:
With the high rate of attacks on women in secluded parking lots, especially during evening hours, the Brisbane City Council has established a "Women Only" parking lot at the Westfield Shopping Centre in Carindale.
Even the parking lot attendants are exclusively female so that a comfortable and safe environment is created for patrons.
Below is the first picture available of this world-first women-only parking lot in Australia.
I woke up this morning to the Blue Screen of Death on my desktop PC.
Normally I wouldn’t care. The damn thin is close to 4 years old, and that is in the senior citizen category as far as computers are concerned. Normally I would just act like a Democratic Liberal and just let the old fucker die and send it on to the scrap pile. But, I am a Republican (for the most part) and, like our older generation, there is information that needs to be saved and shared. I have all my banking information, pictures, and correspondence on the fucking hard drive. I cannot lose that stuff.
So I have been out looking at new computers to put any saved stuff into. From what I understand about repairing and restoring hard drives, it is just as cheap to buy a new one. Five to Eight hundred bucks will give me a new PC with more memory, and Windows 7 (which is suppose to be the best MS has ever put out and not as many errors) and a warranty. I have a tech who lives in the ‘hood coming by this afternoon and checking it out. I’ll make a decision as to which way to go then.
Do y’all have any advice or know anything about the BSoD? I’m just hoping I can retrieve the info because I am leaning toward a new PC. I like new - except when it comes to women.
I don’t play golf at all. But I will occasionally go out with some other men in the ‘hood just to get out of the house.
On day I was with them and I noticed two women coming up behind us. One teed off and I watched in horror as her ball headed directly toward our foursome. Then, as I watched but was unable to move from shock, the ball hit ME. I immediately clasped my hands together at the groin, fell to the ground and proceeded to roll around in agony.
The woman rushed down to me, and immediately began to apologize.
'Please allow me to help. I'm a Physical Therapist and I know I could relieve your pain if you'd allow me,’ she told him.
'Oh, no, I'll be all right. I'll be fine in a few minutes,' I replied, though I was in horrible agony. By then I was lying in the fetal position, still clasping my hands there at the groin.
At her persistence, however, I finally allowed her to help. She gently took my hands away and laid them to the side, loosened my pants and put her hands inside. She administered tender and artful massage for several long moments and then asked, 'How does that feel'?
‘Feels great,’ I replied, ‘and don’t stop, but I still think my thumb's broken!’
(This Picture Has Nothing To Do With The Story - I Just Thought It Was Hilarious)
So back to the story:
A man and his wife were awakened at 3:00 am by a loud pounding on the door.
The man gets up and goes to the door where a drunken stranger, standing in the pouring rain, is asking for a push.
'Not a chance,' says the husband, 'it is 3:00 in the morning!' He slams the door and returns to bed.
'Who was that?' asked his wife.
'Just some drunken guy asking for a push,' he answers.
'Did you help him?' she asks.
'No, I did not help him,’ he said sarcastically, ‘it is 3:00 in the morning, and it is pouring rain out there!'
'Well, you have a short memory,' says his wife. 'Can't you remember about three months ago when we broke down, and those two guys helped us? I think you should help him, and you should be ashamed of yourself!'
The man does as he is told, gets dressed, and goes out into the pounding rain.
He calls out into the dark, 'Hello, are you still there?'
'Yes,' comes back the answer.
'Do you still need a push?' calls out the husband.
Anyone remember these? Steel wheeled one-size-fits-all roller skates that required a skate key to make them fit.
First of all you have to turn the skates over and loosen the nut in the middle with one end of the skate key. Then you have to adjust the length by sliding the front half back and forth. Once the skate fits your shoe, the nut had to be tighten again.
Then you put your foot (preferably with shoes on - more about that later)in the skate and put the ankle strap on snugly. Then you take the skate key to the side of the skate, up near the front, and tighten the clamps to the soles of the shoe. Then repeat the procedure with the other foot.
Now you are ready to skate on any sidewalk or street that is paved or concrete. They don’t work too well on dirt roads, though some of those hard, red clay roads in the summertime could be skated on, but the rocks makes it a little dicey.
There were three things that were staples for boys at Christmas, a cap gun set of your favorite cowboy, a bicycle and a pair of roller skates. Girls got the bikes with the lowered down cross bars so we couldn’t see their panties when they go off the bikes, their favorite doll, a kitchen set and roller skates. On Christmas morning, if the temperature was above 20 degrees, there were kids skating on the roads like ants on sugar cubes.
The problem was, the clips on the toes of your shoes would rip the soul from the shoes if you hit a bump or sidewalk or someone’s head or stuff, and that would make our moms as happy as a lobster in boiling water - only hotter. My mom would raise holy hell because the shoes were only a month old. Didn’t matter that I was growing out of them anyway. So she did what any frugal mom would do, she got an older pair of shoes and cut the toes out of them. Since the older shoes were smaller, the skate had to be adjusted to fit the smaller size. So I had to skate with my toes hanging over the edge of the skates.
That was difficult to do so I would take the shoes off and tap my bare feet to the skates. I would cut out a piece of cardboard and put it between my feet and the skate and off I would go. Of course the souls of my feet were hard enough to scratch a match on. My dad did it several times to show his friends.
Why were they so hard? From the time school was out for the summer, the only time I wore shoes was to go to church or go down town with mom to pay bills - or to skate. Also, I was raised on a major thoroughfare two lane road. I skated and rode my bike on that road with cars and trucks going by two feet away. And there was no such thing as a helmet. And we never lost a kid in my school to head injuries. But the most fun things was to grab a bumper and ride the bike or skates like the wind. Skates only on the slower cars when the traffic was heave.
God you have to love and respect those dedicated medical professionals serving in some mighty bad places across this old world.
I received a humorous story from one of my milsupport people vie his wife, a blogger friend. He is a surgeon in Afghanistan in a forward operating zone.
He reports that they're busy, but doing okay. Lots of patients from the local community. At one point, all of his patients in the hospital were children with burn wounds.
His wife, a nurse, commented, “I don't know how much you know about burns, but the debridement process is dreadful. These poor kids have to go through that everyday to ensure they don't get a bacterial infection. So that's what he and the team does, and hope to God that the kids are so doped up they don't feel it.”
The team loves what everyone has been sending. Everything is a morale booster. We are not sure when he will be coming home. The 82nd Airborne has been extended 3 months. Bummer. Not sure what Medcom will do, so we will wait.
Anyway, he sent this story along.
"Last night we had an interesting patient at the clinic. He is one of the local leaders and enjoys the respect and loyalty of a large following. Injured and initially treated elsewhere, he came here by helicopter for the remainder of his care.
It was late and he was very tired but people kept filing into the clinic, each wearing the standard third-world camo with sandals. I was startled as I looked up from my examination to see some thirty to forty well-wishers, crammed Kalishnikov-to-Kalishnikov (AKA weapons) into the tiny clinic, analyzing my every move.
"Late. Him rest," I tried in my primordial Pashto.
"Yes-yes, of course," they murmured. No movement.
Now through my translator, "Tell them the man is tired and must rest. Everyone who is not family must go now."
"Absolutely... good," they agreed. Nobody moved.
They continued to watch, commenting quietly to each other. A bit frustrated, my translator made another attempt. Nothing.
Finally a well-dressed young man squeezed over to me and spoke apologetically in quiet, perfect English, "I must tell you, Sir, your patient has three wives and twenty-seven children. We are, all of us, family."
BOSTON - President Barack Obama won the 2010 Boston Marathon on Friday in a stunning decision designed to encourage him to quit smoking and keep running to stay in shape. The Boston Athletic Association announced their decision to name Obama the winner even though the race will not be run until 18 April 2010 because the president has the desire to win and has good intentions.
In announcing Obama the winner the president of the BAA said, "We must rise above the out dated measurements of what a person actually has accomplished and focus instead on their intentions and what they say they will do. Intentions and talk are what drive the world." Congressman Barney Frank and Chinese Vice President XI Jinping seated nearby reiterated these words.
The BAA also noted that no president has won the marathon before. This would set a good example for all future presidents of the United States and for other countries such as Iran and North Korea that intentions really matter.
Many observers were shocked by the unexpected decision before the race has even been run. However, when told of his win the President said he had really been thinking a lot about keeping in shape, talked with staff about cutting back on his smoking, and even read an article about the Boston Marathon.
Obama added that wining the Boston Marathon was better than any other awards he has received including his Nobel Prize, a Tony for best performance by leading actor, an Emmy for outstanding lead actor in drama series, a Golden Globe for best performance of an actor in a comedy, NASCAR Champion, World Series Most Valuable Player, Best TwitterPage, and Teleprompters of America Best Reader.
Most of you know about the rains and the flooding we had here in Georgia. Places were flooded that have been flood free longer than most around here can remember. That was a couple of weeks ago, but we have had heavy rains since then.
The ground is saturated and the creeks and rivers are at flood stage and in some cases out of the banks. This is the case at a small park down in the valley of my town of Woodstock. The Little River runs through an old pre-Civil War area where a hemp rope factory was located. There is nothing on record indicating that any of the employees or the owners ever smoked any of the products, but it did put out tons of ropes for the South.
There is an old rock dam partially torn down and a slue where the river water was diverted to the rope mill to turn the water-wheel. The mill is gone now with only parts of the foundation intact. Across the rive from the mill the city of Woodstock built a park.
All the places you see are usually green with grass. There are areas where people walk the trails beside the river, or picnic on the ground or benches and it is a quiet and peaceful place. These pictures were made two days after the rains, so the water is down some. The water was over the picnic tables yesterday, and it will back in the river banks in a few days, but it will take awhile to restore the park back to it’s original beauty.
You, my trusted peeps, are always in my thoughts. Because of this, along with my constant desire to provide the most up-to-date material, information and educational enhancing vocabularies I can find or come across, I give you this from my own experience in hopes of making the world a better, safer place.
As you know, women often receive warnings about protecting themselves at the mall and in dark parking lots, etc. But I have never seen any warnings for men. So, I want to pass this on in case you haven't heard about it, and to save you from going through all that I have had to go through.
It’s a 'heads up' for those men who may be regular Lowe’s, Home Depot, or Costco customers. This scheme caught me by surprise.
Over the last month I became a victim of a clever scam while out shopping. Simply going out to get supplies has turned out to be quite traumatic. Don't be naive enough to think it couldn't happen to you or your friends.
Here's how the scam works:
Two seriously good-looking 20-something girls came over to my car as I was packing my shopping into the trunk. They both start wiping my windshield with a rag and Windex, with their breasts almost falling out of their skimpy T-shirts. It is impossible not to look. When I thanked them and offer them a tip, they say 'No' and instead they ask for a ride to McDonalds.
I agreed and they get into the back seat. On the way, they start undressing. Then one of them climbs over into the front seat and starts crawling all over me. As I am about to unload myself, the other one steals my wallet. I had my wallet stolen September 4th, 9th, 10th, twice on the 15th, 17th, 20th, 24th, & 29th. Also October 1st & 4th, twice on the 8th, 16th, three times last Monday and very likely again this upcoming weekend.
So tell your friends to be careful. What a horrible way to take advantage of an older man.
Recently, in a televised modern dance competition in China - a very unique couple won one of the top prizes and received the longest standing ovation.
She was a dancer, who had trained since she was a child. Tragically, she lost her entire right arm in an accident and fell into a state of depression; so she decided to coach a children's dancing group. From that point on, she realized she could not forget dancing. She still loved to dance and wanted to dance again. She tried to do some of her former routines but without her arm she had difficulty maintaining balance. She practiced strenuously and developed a dance routine - always dancing alone in her studio.
He was not a dancer. He lost a leg in an accident and he had fallen into a deep state of depression. They met - and her goal immediately became to help him become positive about life again. She taught him to dance and in her studio they danced together and developed a routine as their lives and friendship became closer.
Their life together, behind the closed doors of the dance studio - was one creativity, challenge, determination, practice and sometimes failure.Their focus was on doing what others said would be impossible.. Several times it became so difficult and frustrating for them that they gave up, broke up. But life alone, without each other, brought them back together again and they became even more determined to perfect a dance routine to a point where they might try to dance outside the studio to see what friends and family thought about what they were doing all that time inside the studio.
Their friends and family were so supportive they encouraged the couple to enter a dance competition, which they finally agreed to do. Only later did they realize the competition was to be televised locally. We will now see the first - and to date only televised performance of their dance.......
Peeps, this goes to show you that some of us feel sorry for ourselves because we are not perfect, have flaws. Others excel in their imperfections and inspire all of us regardless of their flaws. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if, before we shuck this human bondage, we inspired someone to greatness? It hasn’t happened to me yet, but then I ain’t through with my life, either. Watch out world, Coffeypot is a coming…
Architects and engineers compete to see whose team can build the most spectacular structure using little more than cans of food at Canstruction, the 13th annual NYC Design and Build competition in New York
All these cans will go to the food bank afterwards.
Scroll down and enjoy.
Happiness keeps You Sweet , Trials keep You Strong , Sorrows keep You Human , Failures keeps You Humble , Success keeps You Glowing , But Only God keeps You Going