Once upon a time everyone used outhouses. Back then when they moved one and had to bury it they called the soiled earth under one 'night soil'.
So this tree shares a bit of that name. The picture was indeed taken at night... but I call it night tree because it also served a more natural purpose.
I find that trees bring us back to nature... and some things make me feel very connected to the natural order of things. I'll let your own imagination connect the dots.
In closing.. thank you tree.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Thursday, January 15, 2009
The Skunk
This is a skunk. Well not a real skunk. Its a pretend skunk. A doll if you will. It was created for the sole purpose of being used as a dog toy.
Obviously we wish to teach our dogs to chew and otherwise mutilate skunks for many reasons. Number one, skunks are dangerous malefic creatures with terrible and awesome powers who, given the opportunity would surely destroy civilization as we know it. Number two, they smell bad. Number three, they don't have many friends so who would miss them anyway.
Lies!!!
Skunks really don't smell, they keep the stinky stuff locked up in their anal glands and don't express it except under extreme duress. After all.. there are quite a few skunks around that you never see... and how often do you smell them? Practically never... the few times you have smelled them were most likely due to being run over by a car.
Hell if I was run over by a car I'd probably express my anal gland too, if I had one. Since I don't I'd probably be wishing I had one... to make the bastard behind the wheel suffer for what he'd done. After all.. as you can imagine, the actual car that strikes a skunk is likely to be nearly undrivable for weeks or more.
They do have malefic powers.... but there's not much we can do about those... so why tempt fate.
Teaching dogs to attack and mutilate skunks is simply asking for trouble. Obviously its these sorts of thoughtless products that are leading to the inevitable downfall of society, regardless of the involvement of skunks and their magical powers.
Obviously we wish to teach our dogs to chew and otherwise mutilate skunks for many reasons. Number one, skunks are dangerous malefic creatures with terrible and awesome powers who, given the opportunity would surely destroy civilization as we know it. Number two, they smell bad. Number three, they don't have many friends so who would miss them anyway.
Lies!!!
Skunks really don't smell, they keep the stinky stuff locked up in their anal glands and don't express it except under extreme duress. After all.. there are quite a few skunks around that you never see... and how often do you smell them? Practically never... the few times you have smelled them were most likely due to being run over by a car.
Hell if I was run over by a car I'd probably express my anal gland too, if I had one. Since I don't I'd probably be wishing I had one... to make the bastard behind the wheel suffer for what he'd done. After all.. as you can imagine, the actual car that strikes a skunk is likely to be nearly undrivable for weeks or more.
They do have malefic powers.... but there's not much we can do about those... so why tempt fate.
Teaching dogs to attack and mutilate skunks is simply asking for trouble. Obviously its these sorts of thoughtless products that are leading to the inevitable downfall of society, regardless of the involvement of skunks and their magical powers.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Moose Riding
This is my Moose/Squirrel, Abby. Some people tell me she's a poodle.. but I don't generally believe them. After all most people are idiots.
The moose/squirrel is a strong creature... strong enough to be ridden by a grown man (see picture). They also like to hide dish sponges, burying them for the winter (hence the squirrel appelation).
I rather like Abby. If I didn't I'd cook her.
The moose/squirrel is a strong creature... strong enough to be ridden by a grown man (see picture). They also like to hide dish sponges, burying them for the winter (hence the squirrel appelation).
I rather like Abby. If I didn't I'd cook her.
Dinner
Cooking is fun.
Now that I have 2 kids, plus Donna and myself I finally have enough people to cook a decent meal for.
This one consisted of homemade macaroni (the kind you bake), a sweet and sour bean salad, and hamburger steak smothered in gravy and onions.
The kids don't always like everything I make.. but they like most things, and they get exposed to lots of different foods. Something I think is important when growing up. I detest picky eaters (adults).
Lets hope they turn out as good as the meals.
Now that I have 2 kids, plus Donna and myself I finally have enough people to cook a decent meal for.
This one consisted of homemade macaroni (the kind you bake), a sweet and sour bean salad, and hamburger steak smothered in gravy and onions.
The kids don't always like everything I make.. but they like most things, and they get exposed to lots of different foods. Something I think is important when growing up. I detest picky eaters (adults).
Lets hope they turn out as good as the meals.
Monday, January 12, 2009
My Pee Pee Place
This is the urinal I use every day. After several years you sort of develop a connection to places like this.
I generally visit this spot several times a day. I usually flush with my foot. Not because I'm particularly paranoid... .but at 38 its cool to still be able to lift my leg that high. Plus I suspect some others may use their feet to flush as well. I figure as long as I keep flushing this way I'll retain my flexibility.. at least in regards to this... if I stop.. well how long before I discovered I could no longer do so?
I generally visit this spot several times a day. I usually flush with my foot. Not because I'm particularly paranoid... .but at 38 its cool to still be able to lift my leg that high. Plus I suspect some others may use their feet to flush as well. I figure as long as I keep flushing this way I'll retain my flexibility.. at least in regards to this... if I stop.. well how long before I discovered I could no longer do so?
Fond Memories of the Funeral Playground
This is a photo of a cemetary.
My grandfather was a mortician.. so as a child I got to spend quite a bit of time playing at the funeral home in town. To a five year old... a funeral home can be a magical place. The landscaping, beautifully decorated rooms, antique furniture, flowers... everything that goes into making a beautiful place to comfort grieving families, and to display the dearly departed... also coincidentally make for a fantastic playground.
At the time I was unaware of the irony. Indeed, my father and his sisters grew up in an apartment over the same funeral home.. so 'living' so near to the business of death was an old and familiar irony for most of my family.
I accidentally wandered into a room where someone was being embalmed somewhere around age five as well. That was a bit of a shock.. but otherwise all my memories of the place my grandfather worked are pleasant, if not idyllic.
Twenty eight years later I returned.... to see my best friend before his burial the next day. You might suppose that such a traumatic event would overshadow the kinder memories of yesteryear. Far from it however... the familiar place, and its childhood associations helped me get through that night.
I don't like losing friends.. but I still love the Funeral Home.
My grandfather was a mortician.. so as a child I got to spend quite a bit of time playing at the funeral home in town. To a five year old... a funeral home can be a magical place. The landscaping, beautifully decorated rooms, antique furniture, flowers... everything that goes into making a beautiful place to comfort grieving families, and to display the dearly departed... also coincidentally make for a fantastic playground.
At the time I was unaware of the irony. Indeed, my father and his sisters grew up in an apartment over the same funeral home.. so 'living' so near to the business of death was an old and familiar irony for most of my family.
I accidentally wandered into a room where someone was being embalmed somewhere around age five as well. That was a bit of a shock.. but otherwise all my memories of the place my grandfather worked are pleasant, if not idyllic.
Twenty eight years later I returned.... to see my best friend before his burial the next day. You might suppose that such a traumatic event would overshadow the kinder memories of yesteryear. Far from it however... the familiar place, and its childhood associations helped me get through that night.
I don't like losing friends.. but I still love the Funeral Home.
Dungeons and Dragons
I'm 38 years old... ya I still play.
Funny thing is the other guys are all getting old too. So it doesn't feel like I'm playing a young man's game.
Not that many young men still play games like this.
Funny thing is the other guys are all getting old too. So it doesn't feel like I'm playing a young man's game.
Not that many young men still play games like this.
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