"In a democracy (‘rule by mob’), those who refuse to learn from history will be the majority and will dictate that everyone else suffer for their ignorance."
(No, I’m not “Bloodhound Gangâ€)
Trub. The sediment of life hosts this week’s Carnival of the Recipes.
And ya know, aside from misspelling my blog’s name, it’s a mighty fine job of presentation—and some mighty fine recipes. And, ah, well, Jeff gets a bye for the blogname typo, cos he said some kind words about my 3-ingredient, one-step recipe for “Sorta Smoresâ€. 😉
Thanks, Jeff!
Well, several folks—Christine and Romeocat are prominent examples—do lotsa catblogging, so I thought, here’s the perfect dogblog post.
I saw this thing and the first thing that pooped inna my head was, “Gee, just what I don’t want. This thing’s ridiculous! If I want my car to smell like a dog that’s all wet, all I hafta do is give one of The Boys a bath and stick him in the car.â€
Besides, as Lovely Daughter says, ya wouldn’t want Scooby-Doo staring back at you from your rear view mirror. Ruh-roh!
Mostly crossposted at Cathouse Chat
In which Lovely Daughter encounters a Cluebat
The other day I was scrubbing a pan I’d thoughtlessly burned a buncha rice in. Took real skill. The rice-burning, that is. Have some lovely cast-iron-core stainless steel pots n pans. Heat the water (a lil less than for other pans), dump in the rice, twirls the lid, turn the heat down to nearly nothing and 20 minutes later, perfectly cooked rice.
Well, I’d done all but the last, turning the pan down, and left to run a short errand (cos food cooked in these pans the proper way just almost can’t burn). Been doing this sorta thing with these pans for more than 25 years, so no problem.
Except, I hadn’t turned the pan down… *sigh*
So, there I was cleaning the “blackened rice†off of this otherwise beautiful cooking utensil. [See the light bulb go off?] Dropped into the garage for a sec. Picked up my cordless drill and a scouring disk attachment. Back at the sink, whirring away.
Lovely Daughter sees me cleaning the pan with my drill. “You’re weird, Dad.â€
Gee. What was your first clue, Sherlock?
The Spaghetti Western all-purpose blogburst
The Good: Guard Our Borders
Minutemen help in Katrina relief by Filling Gaps in Border Patrol (Go Minutemen!)
The Bad:
Notice Regarding I-9 Documentation Requirements for Hiring Hurricane Victims (Hint: Homeland Security’s not gonna be requiring employers to check for green cards, cos naturally folks’d be too stupid to have theirs with ‘em)
And the Ugly: STOP the ACLU
ACLU defends foreign outlaws (. Yep, they wanna take your job, spread disease, and blow you up. For the ACLU, what’s not to like?
And the really yoogly!
Jean Fraud sKerry’s Green Card Still Missing: Kerry thought to be illegal alien from the Crab Nebula (heh—where’s your 180 info, Johnnie baby? Whatcha hiding? Free John Kerry’s 180!)
This has been a production of the STOP the ACLU—Guard Our Borders—Free John Kerry’s 180-Blogbursts. (So two of ‘em are late. *sigh* I’ll do better next time. Stop with the rubber hoses, already!)
(OK, who’ve I forgotten? Oh, right: Madeline Kahn singing “I’m Tired†in Blazing Saddles. I knew there was something.)
[And my apologies for posting earlier with most of the links not included. Just saw my faux pas… )
Surely you jest (“Don’t call me Shirleyâ€)
Light blogging, indeed. Missed two important blogbursts. *sigh* Maybe I’ll fit ‘em in today.
I’ll be in and out today so I thought I’d go for something a lil different. I haven’t taken/made the time to get the tech squared away in my head, so I’ll have to come on back and do it manually, but here goes. Diane, at Diane’s Stuff (what else? ;~) posted a long-winded story that depends on a groaner of a pun. Love it. I’ll probably post my fav in a sec, here.
The deal:
Post your fav pun-groaner of a story, either in comments here or on your blog. If in comments here, I’ll bring it “out front†with full credit (or blame) for you. If on your blog, trackback and I’ll bring the tracked back link out front here. A lil mini-open links post kinda deal.
OK: a fav story with hook or punchline a groaner of a pun.
This, reproduced from a Wikipedia article on shaggy dog stories, is a version of my fav (and saves me from having to type the thing out):
Well into his career, Quasimodo, most famous and accomplished of Notre Dame bellringers, died in his sleep. As he was not the best-liked of individuals, mourning was brief, and afterward the church was left sans bellringer. Quasimodo had been working there for quite a long time, and as such the priests did not know how to go about looking for a replacement. After much deliberation, they decided to hold an audition.
Notre Dame being such a prestigious cathedral, people came from far and wide to audition for the job of bellringer. The priests were stunned; they hadn’t expected such response. They got to the tedious labor of interviewing each of the would-be ringers, and continued at it for an entire month before finally reaching the end of the line. By this point, they were extremely disheartened: every last one of the applicants they had interviewed thus far was nothing less than awful at bellringing. The last one, from a single look alone, promised to be no improvement: he had no arms!
As frustrated as they were, the prospect of a no-armed bellringer was amusing to the priests, so instead of simply dismissing him they put him through the interview process. “Do you have any experience in the field of bellringing?” they asked. “I’ve worked at several churches and cathedrals throughout Europe,” he told them, “and all of the priests I have worked with will be happy to provide references.” This intrigued the priests, so they probed further. “How do you ring the bells, with no arms?” Unfazed, he told asked, “May I demonstrate?” They brought him up to the bell-tower. He stood back from one of the bells, bent down, and ran at it, striking it with his face, then repeating this with the other bells, producing the most beautiful music the priests had ever heard. They hired him on the spot.
Things went swimmingly for several months. Every morning the bellringer woke up early to ring the bells, creating unique music and helping to maintain Notre Dame’s place as the foremost of France’s cathedrals. The citizens loved his music, and everything was fantastic. Then, one day, there was a tragic accident. The bell ringer backed up, as usual, and ran at the bell- but missed it entirely. He charged out of the tower, falling to his death.
As his body laid on the street below, a crowd began to gather. The individuals surrounding him muttered amongst themselves: nobody knew who he was. “Who is this?” was the question on everyone’s lips. “Whose body is this?” Someone finally piped up:
“I don’t know, but his face sure rings a bell.”
So Notre Dame was once again out a bellringer. The audition process had ended up working out well for the priests the previous time, so they decided to hold a second audition. Once again, people came from far and wide to audition for the honor of being the person to ring Notre Dame’s bells. As a matter of fact, most of them were the same people, undaunted by their previous failures. The priests once again went down the line, interviewing the applicants one by one, only to find that once again they were all simply terrible. Finally they reached the last person in line. Once again, they were shocked to find that he had no arms. What was more, he bore a striking resemblance to the previous bellringer.
“That’s funny,” said one of the priests. “You look a lot like the last guy we had in here!” The interviewee replied, “Well, I ought to! He was my brother!” His list of credentials was even longer than the last man’s, and the music (which he played in much the same manner) was even more beautiful. Of course, they hired him immediately. Once again, things went great for several months, and the priests thanked God for their good fortune in finding not one but two such gifted individuals. But, just like the last time, one day there was an accident. The bellringer backed up, ran at the bell, missed it, and fell out of the tower, landing on his face and dying instantly.
Once again, a puzzled crowd gathered around the body on the street. “Who is this?” they asked. “Who has died in the street?” Nobody seemed to know. This went on for some time, until someone finally interjected:
“I don’t know his name, but he’s a dead ringer for his brother!”
There ya are. Any takers for more contributions?
Dr. Phat Tony offers this lil groaner in comments (note: it works much better when you sing the punchline… and no, I’m not telling you what tune, yet. Think 40s-era swing)
One morning Roy Rogers woke up early to make use of his new running shoes he had just bought. He told Dale Evans that he was going to try them out by running around the neighborhood and would be back in an hour. Dale Evans was just finishing breakfast, when Roy Rogers burst into the house looking like he had been caught in a thresher from the knees down. Dale asked, “Roy, what happened to your legs and wear are your new shoes?”
Roy responded, “I was running along and I was attacked by a mountain lion. The cougar scratched, clawed, and bit at my new shoes. I was lucky to escape alive. We have to go back out there and find that mountain lion before anyone else gets hurt.”
So, Roy and Dale left their house in search of the shoe hating mountain lion. As they were clearing a hill, Dale Evans spots a mountain lion, turns to Roy and says, (in song) “Pardon me Roy is that the cat that chewed your new shoes?”
And another from DPT:
To get the full effect, this should be read aloud. You will understand what ‘tenjewberrymuds’ means by the end of the conversation.
The following is a telephone exchange between a hotel guest and room-service, at a hotel in Asia, which was recorded and published in the Far East Economic Review:
Room Service (RS): “Morrin. Roon sirbees.”
Guest (G): “Sorry, I thought I dialed room-service.”
RS: “Rye..Roon sirbees..morrin! Jewish to oddor sunteen??”
G: “Uh..yes..I’d like some bacon and eggs.”RS: “Ow July den?”
G: “What??”
!RS: “Ow July den?…pryed, boyud, poochd?”
G : “Oh, the eggs! How do I like them?
Sorry, scrambled please.”
RS: “Ow July dee baykem? Crease?”
G: “Crisp will be fine.”
RS : “Hokay. An Sahn toes?”
G: “What?”
RS:”An toes. July Sahn toes?”
G: “I don’t think so.”
RS: “No? Judo wan sahn toes??”
G: “I feel really bad about this, but I don’t know what ‘judo wan sahn toes’ means.”
RS: “Toes! toes!…Why jew don juan toes? Ow bow Anglish moppin we bodder?”
G: “English muffin!! I’ve got it! You were saying ‘Toast.’ Fine. Yes, an English muffin will be fine.”
RS: “We bodder?”
G: “No…just put the bodder on the side.”
RS: “Wad?”
G: “I mean butter…just put it on the side.”
RS: “Copy?”
G: “Excuse me?”
RS: “Copy…tea…meel?”
G: “Yes. Coffee, please, and that’s all.”
RS: “One Minnie. Scramah egg, crease baykem, Anglish moppin we bodder on sigh and copy….rye??”
G: “Whatever you say.”
RS: “Tenjewberrymuds.”
G : “You’re very welcome.”
OK, so it’s not dependent on a pun, but Woody’s trackback with this morality play of a tale that I just can’t pass up. I just bet family reuinions are fun in that family…
Remember International Talk Like a Pirate Day, September 19, 2005.
Here, to help you talk like a pirate on your blog, is the pirate keyboard.
Sorta Smores: chocolate-marshmallowy goodness without the campfire…
These are almost too easy to submit as a Carnival of the Recipes entry, but they can be sooooo good it’d be a shame not to.
This is another one of my patented “not-quite-a-recipe recipes†OK? Just remember, it can’t be “Sorta Smores†with the typical graham cracker, ’K?
Ingredients:
Procedure:
Let ‘em cool a bit and have ‘em with hot chocolate or coffee.
Variation? Snickers bars (very small chunks dispersed among the mini-marshmallows), of course. And of course, lots of variations in types of chocolate can be fun. Haven’t tried white chocolate with this, but I might. Just have fun with it.
And yeh, if you absolutely must, you can do this over a campfire. *sigh* Barbarians…
🙂
Or just self-made idiots?
Actually, I can believe both to be true. Consider two separate cases of ideologically-driven stupidity from Mass Media Podpeople in the last couple of weeks, both concerning Katrina coverage, which among Mass Media Podpeople has been almost universally critical of George Bush.
The federal response to Katrina was not as portrayed
It is settled wisdom among journalists that the federal response to the devastation wrought by Hurricane Katrina was unconscionably slow…
…But the conventional wisdom is the opposite of the trut
Jason van Steenwyk is a Florida Army National Guardsman who has been mobilized six times for hurricane relief. He notes that:
“The federal government pretty much met its standard time lines, but the volume of support provided during the 72-96 hour was unprecedented. The federal response here was faster than Hugo, faster than Andrew, faster than Iniki, faster than Francine and Jeanne.”
That’s one lying meme being promoted by the Mass Media Podpeople’s Army and their fellow travelers among the Loony Left Moonbat Brigade. But one simply expects that when a MMP’s lips are moving…
But what about this? Michael Kinsley, often over-the-top in his leftist cant, found it too much to stomach that CNN was coaching news anchors to… well, let me just quote him, courtesy of Drudge
:
“The TV news networks, which only a few months ago were piously suppressing emotional fireworks by their pundits, are now piously encouraging their news anchors to break out of the emotional straitjackets and express outrage. A Los Angeles Times colleague of mine, appearing on CNN last week to talk about Katrina, was told by a producer to ‘get angry.'”
Heh. Outright lies about federal response time and coaching news anchors to “get angryâ€â€”“fair and balanced†sure ain’t the watchword of most so-called “news†reporting.
Were Mark Twain around today, he might have to amend his adage to “Lies, damned lies and news reports.â€
Just a little FYI concerning taping conversations, whether phone or in-person. If you are NOT associated with law enforcement, “one-party consent†is the rule in 38 states and the District of Columbia. Twelve states require all parties to a conversation to give their consent to taping. Google the requirements for your situation to be sure, but here’s a rough outline from The Reporters Committee for Freedom of the Press. (Yeh, I think “reporters†in the site’s title ought to be “reporters’ †but who am I to correct the usage of so august a group? Heh)
STATE-BY-STATE ALPHABETICAL LIST
Alabama – One Party
Alaska – One Party
Arkansas – One Party
California – All Party
Colorado – One Party
Connecticut – All Party
Delaware – All Party
District of Columbia – One Party
Florida – All Party
Georgia – One Party
Hawaii – One Party
Idaho – One Party
Illinois – All Party
Indiana – One Party
Iowa – One Party
Kansas – One Party
Kentucky – One Party
Louisiana – One Party
Maine – One Party
Maryland – All Party
Massachusetts – All Party
Michigan – All Party
Minnesota – One Party
Mississippi – One Party
Missouri – One Party
Montana – All Party
Nebraska – One Party
Nevada – One Party
New Hampshire – All Party
New Jersey – One Party
New Mexico – One Party
New York – One Party
North Carolina – One Party
North Dakota – One Party
Ohio – One Party
Oklahoma – One Party
Oregon – One Party
Pennsylvania – All Party
Rhode Island – One Party
South Carolina – One Party
South Dakota – One Party
Tennessee – One Party
Texas – One Party
Utah – One Party
Vermont – One Party
Virginia – One Party
Washington – All Party
West Virginia – One Party
Wisconsin – One Party
Wyoming – One Party“Regardless of the state, it is almost always illegal to record a conversation to which you are not a party, do not have consent to tape, and could not naturally overhear.”
As I suspected, the Falls Creek Baptist Assembly/Katrina “detention center” story was mis-reportage/overblown or agenda-driven. Yes, apparently there may have been some FEMA people there doing a little bureaucrapic (yes, I meant to spell it that way) muscle-flexing, but it’s NOT a FEMA site. I received several emails filling me in on the status of the situation, and one pointed me to this from http://www.bgco.org (there’s a link on the front page to the article, “Governor Asks Falls Creek to Remain on Standby for at Least 5 More Days” dated September 8).
“…Falls Creek remains on standby, at the request of the Governor, for at least another 5 days. (Until at least Tuesday, September 13) Â Â The Oklahoma Highway Patrol, medical personnel, Oklahoma Disaster Relief teams and other government agencies remain onsite at Falls Creek until further notice from Governor’s office….”
So, over-reaction by the narrator of the account to all the government presence? One or two pushy low-level government employees (very likely!)? A combo of the two? It just didn’t sound like something that could be done there, and fortunately that seems to be the case.
