It’s got a zip code, ergo post 1963.
[Undoctored image found here.]
[Kinda Related Story: If you don’t believe this, you can verify it for yourself. In the google box, type in google trends. When the new box opens, type in Chuck Norris, boobs.
Also, except for understandable spikes in early November 2008 and late January 2009, The Little Mermaid consistently kicks Obama‘s ass. Analyze the data as you see fit.]
People like Mr. Beasley amaze me. Here’s a guy who grew up in the poverty-stricken rural south who knows more about basic survival than almost anyone reading this post. He’s carved himself a niche, trapping urban raccoons, cleaning them, and selling them to folks who enjoy this delicacy — IN DETROIT!
“Coon or rabbit. God put them there to eat. When men get hold of animals he blows them up and then he blows up. Fill ’em so full of chemicals and steroids it ruins the people. It makes them sick. Like the pigs on the farm. They’s 3 months old and weighing 400 pounds. They’s all blowed up. And the chil’ren who eat it, they’s all blowed up. Don’t make no sense.”
–Glemie Beasley, Urban Hunter.
I don’t agree with his argument against raising corn-fed animals to butcher, but consider this: If all of a sudden there was no food at the grocery stores and money became worthless, how would you feed your family?
You’d do it just like Glemie Beasley does it… or starve.
The video is interesting, but the “host” is a smarmy condescending dorkboy with a “soul patch” under his lower lip.
Finest point about capturing and butchering game such as possum and raccoon is to leave a paw on, so that folks can tell you’re not selling dog or cat carcasses. The video is graphic in as much as a cooking show shows a skinned chicken; but it also instructs on how to prepare small game carcasses.
[Full story with video here. Related stuff: I mentioned before that James Burke’s Part 3 of Episode 1 of his excellent Connections series is a must see. Be patient until 4:30- that’s where the meat is.]
I am amazed at the technology that allows one to sit a mile away (next to the only three Porta-Potties) and have a recobanizable photo taken. These images were taken from screenprints converted to .jpg files with MSPaint, and were not doctored except for cropping.
[Note that even Jesus attended the event in his burial shroud.]
This is the Fullscreen Gigapan. Zoom in, zoom out; look for Elvis and Waldo.
Then I spotted Aretha Franklin with some serious mojo flyin’.
[Related inaugrabation photos here; More UltraZoomage here.]
At 8:30PM tonight, make sure you turn all your lights on, power up your TVs and stereos, and celebrate the Technological Achievements of Humanity. Get in your cars and drive somewhere, just for the sake of it, and just for fun. Raise and lower your garage doors, and run your washing machines. Run the dryer without anything in it. Got a power mower? Crank it up. Heat up your cat’s food in the microwave. Take your dog out to Burger King. Make as many long distance telephone calls as you can. Run your dishwasher with half of the normal load, and run the other half separately. Open up your refrigerator door, and look without removing anything to eat. Do it again. Download updates for all your computer programs and email them to all your friends.
LET’S CELEBRATE AMAZING ACHIEVEMENTS FOR A CHANGE!
“But why should I do that?” you ask. I’ll tell you.
We’re fighting Global Cooling. Mostly we’re fighting Global Idiocy, but let’s call it Global Cooling for now. The feel-good crowd will never know the difference anyway.
Those folks who think that turning their electricity off for an hour will “save the planet” (or “send a message” to someone or something) are the same folks who stood outside their homes a couple of years ago with candle wax dripping over their fingers, believing that the space shuttle was gonna zoom by and take a photo of the earth lit up with peace candles. My message is:
From “60 Minutes” comes this disturbing report:
President Barack Obama said he believes the global financial system remains at risk of implosion with the failure of Citigroup or AIG, touching off “an even more destructive recession and potentially depression.”
His remarks came in a “60 Minutes” interview in which he was pressed by an incredulous Steve Kroft for laughing and chuckling several times while discussing the perilous state of the world’s economy.
“You’re sitting here. And you’re— you are laughing. You are laughing about some of these problems. Are people going to look at this and say, ‘I mean, he’s sitting there just making jokes about money—’ How do you deal with— I mean: explain…” Kroft asks at one point.
“Are you punch drunk?” Kroft says.
“No, no. There’s gotta be a little gallows humor to get you through the day,” Obama says, with a laugh.
Good God.
[Full transcript here.]
Coupla things made my day recently. Two weeks ago my home computer incompletely crashed due to an incomplete installation of a WidNows update. Undoing the installation didn’t help, neither did rebooting in safe mode to run the ineffectual WidNows reset program. Manually uninstalling the corrupt update changed nothing and I was left with a crawling computer… but at least it could still access the internest.
Avanquest’s Fix-It Utilities saved me by allowing me to bypass WidNows and undo what WidNows wouldn’t. After trying a variety of combinations, SOMETHING GOT FIXED! I highly recommend Fix-It Utilities for emergency repairs. Honest unpaid testimony.
But my HP scanner still wouldn’t work, due to a corrupted WidNows install file. Reinstalling the driver didn’t take, even in Safe Mode. Uninstalling and reinstalling twice, did. I’m mystified, but happy.
BUT THAT’S NOT THE BEST NEWS. I beat the traffic caused by Obama’s motorcade (with a half dozen military helicoptor escort) in time to find out that I won a cool caption contest prize from Reforming Geek.
Made my day.
Once when the power went out I went to the store and bought several of bags of ice to save the foodstuffs in our refrigerator, but when I got back to the house, the power was back on. So I took the bags of ice back to the store, told them the ice was defective, that it didn’t cool properly. They refunded my money with no questions.
[Image from here.]
Exiting the hatch should be interesting.
[Image from here.]
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UPDATE: Thanks to a link from Reddit, here’s the story. It was a metro accident in the Ukraine in May of 2007 [story here]. Via Google Translate, we get the gist of it:
Metropolitan Express. As it were. Events eyewitness.
In short, what it was. I sat down today in the 167th Kiev on the Dnieper-Pjatihatki-butt. Conductor took the tickets, but never gave.
We drove normally. As always, stupid movie, as always tea. Already around 22:30 it started. Essno flashed in an instant. I drove the car at the very beginning, back in the direction of travel, which insanely happy. Before us was the only car-wagon. Let’s go, go, suddenly thrust. As always, the first thought when you wake up at night from the jolt in the car – push and settle down. But no, the car started to throw from side to side. Then he began to lurch from grinding. On the shelves poured luggage. Among the passengers was not much noise. When everything had settled down, began to understand everything and everything is in order. The car does not hurt anybody, like the conductor saw that hurt.The first car the most, not counting the first section of the lock, fell on its side. My neighbor’s window was covered with a grid of cracks. The rest remained intact.
The first desire of passengers – more quickly get out of the car. But there sounded clever ideas: we do not know where we are, whether we will still fall and in what condition the car. Quickly came to their senses when they saw the rail under the windows. Began to slowly get out out through the usual exit.Arriving in itself, took the camera and started klatsat. Photos will be later. People also podastavali camera down, and phones. And all so much fun. Smile Behind the scenes sounded a joke: “Call the conductor, even pick up the glasses.”
Almost all the passengers taken away somewhere having taken the train. I left the coach with its neighbors in a jeep. Waiting for him in the house SHCH, where the police had no news from privoloch who took Marauder – found him two new pairs of women’s shoes in a box and a bunch of canned goods. My uncle was a kind and take a drop too much baggage to explain the origin could not.
Train wreck in 70-100 meters from the little station Rasava Southwestern Railroad around 22:30 on Wednesday May 2, 2007. This, in my mind, the first serious accident “Capital Express”.
PS That’s really never would have thought that out of the car past the boiler so narrow, if selected by him when he is in a horizontal position.
Just in time for All Soul’s Day.
Yes, folks, we’ve all seen it on TV, the one and only “Miraculously Pepper-Minty Faith-Enhancing Breathspray.”
Made from habanero chili oil, all it takes is one little squirt into your mouth, and you’ll be yelling, “OH GOD! O MY GOD!” and praying that there’s some milk left in the fridge.
—————-
Habanero chilis make you smarter.
I’d read about them. A friend had given me five little orange ones he’d grown himself. Something that small and pretty couldn’t be that bad, I told myself, and I dared myself to try one, or rather, a small part of one, and I ate a fingernail-sized slice late one night several years ago.
I have a deep and profound respect for the habanero.
It was sweet, pleasant at first, until it jumped up and filled my entire field of vision. Flaming sweat was spitting out of my forehead when I took a lick of salt (one remedy) and I jammed my fist into the refrigerator for the quart of milk without opening the door. “OH GOD!” I yanked the milk out by its udders ignoring the jagged metal that cut my forearm.
I drank the whole quart, and finally the pain subsided. Whew… at least I could say that I’d eaten the habanero. But I found out that it wasn’t done with me yet.
Relieved, and with natural endorphins jumping around in my brain, I headed for bed, got my night-chonis on, brushed my teeth. Then I took out my contacts. “OH, GOD!” A minute amount of the habanero oil had not washed off of my fingers, and now my eyes were shooting flames.
I took the contact lenses, washed them thoroughly, dumped them into the little canister with the magic cleaning tablets, and went to bed.
Next morning. Forgot about the habaneros. Fetched my contacts from the little canister. Put them in my eyes. “OH, GOD!” I decided to ride it out, and it subsided, leaving me red eyed.
And I learned that the habenero wasn’t done with me yet. Later that afternoon while sitting next to the bathtub… “OH, GOD.”
—————–
True Story, and I learned from it. Hope you did too.
[Photo source: Chiquiworld.]
Tacky Raccoons 
