And I don’t mean Fred, Texas. Imagine. President Fred. FOF. Friends of Fred. Better Fred than… Gotta love a candidate who makes his transcript available beforehand. Keeps the media honest. Go Fred.
UPDATE His hometown wants him. Fred wants to win in Iraq, as well as to enforce the US-Mexico-Canada border.
Today is Eva Bol’s birthday. She’s a constant among my rare readers, and the wife of OCS classmate Joe Bol, who recently retired. Eva likes the Mr. Boy category best, but she also bought a copy of my book "Leaving The Alamo." Not saying how old Eva is today. Shall we just say that she’s over 30?
Alan Sullivan, the Seablogger, who lives aboard a cruiser in Florida, has a built-in interest in the modern Mary Celeste found near the coast of Australia. He thinks the crew of three men went swimming, possibly in a flat calm, and the wind came up and blew their 40-foot catamaran motor-sailer away from them. The skipper’s family says it was a kidnapping. The police have ruled out foul play. Alan’s theory is plausible–"cats are fast…a mere puff could have borne it out of reach"–so is some kind of fight between the three. Otherwise the Kaz II will go down as another Mary Celeste, a ghost ship found adrift in the Atlantic in 1872 with no sign of the ten passengers or crew.
Ever notice how the headlines on stories from Iraq are always about how many more Americans have died? Never about how many more "insurgents," or (fat chance) "terrorists," have bought it in contact with American GI’s on patrol or otherwise in battle. Why, you’d almost think the headline writers were working for the enemy. Naw. More likely, for Harry Reid.
Garbage wars, part 3: Ever since the city of Austin broke our garbage can lid with their automated truck three weeks ago, we’ve been waiting for them to come and replace the big plastic can. Called three times in the past three weeks and gotten nothing but promises–always, oddly, promised within 24 hours. Nothing’s happened yet. Now we’re playing with real garbage, which they did not pick up at all last week. Yesterday they promised to come get it today. Haven’t shown up yet. By 7:48 p.m. it was clear they weren’t coming. Again.
To mow or not to mow: Supposed to rain big this afternoon and tonight. So should I hustle and get the backyard mowed this morning, knowing that all that rain will make the grass grow quicker than usual and I’ll be back mowing again by the weekend? Or let it go until after the rain? I’m letting it go. No surprise there, right?
Back to normal. The Site Meter went through the roof yesterday with collateral hits from The Fat Guy, who got the real Instalanch–i.e. thousands of uniques from one post picked up by Instapundit putting down Compact Fluorescent Bulbs. I got about a hundred of the uniques who used Scott’s recent link to RoboCow, such that the total for the day here topped out at 162, about twice normal in recent months. But it’s over. About ten minutes ago I notice the difference between today and yesterday on the meter: yesterday it was about 60 at this time. Today, it’s 12.
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Posted in Rancho Roly Poly, Scribbles, Site building, The War, Weather/Climate
Tagged City of Austin garbage pickup, Iraq headlines, Site Meter, The Fat Guy
We usually hear about the dead after a terrorist bombing. So many dead, so many wounded. The dead are mourned, the wounded disappear. But many of the wounded stay wounded, crippled, because terrorists pack their bombs with nails, nuts, bolts, scraps of rusted metal, blasting them into the soft human body. Artist Diane Covert brings the X-Rays and CT Scans of these wounded people into the art gallery in all their disturbing truth. Playing this week at Loyola College, in Baltimore, Maryland.
Via LGF.
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THE TEXAS SCRIBBLER 