Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Outrageous Abuse of Power




This posting is a rant against abuse of power by a federal agent with a personal religious bias and the unchecked ability to abuse his power. It is by far the longest post I’ve ever put up.

A good friend, Al Imhoff, died recently of natural causes in his motor home in Apache Junction, AZ. He was 71, bad heart, bad lungs, drank in excess, and smoked. His death wasn’t unexpected. R.I.P. Al.

My friend, Al Imhoff, had his life turned upside down by FBI agents. At the end of June 2009, he became a “person of interest” in the disappearance of ten year old Lindsey Baum of McCleary, WA.  A Goggle search will pull up many pages.

One of Al’s grandchildren was in the same school  and the same grade as the girl. McCleary is a very small town. This grandchild is known for a wild imagination (tells lies). He told Al some things about this girl, things she had said at a neighborhood gathering, that Al believed the police should know. He took his grandson to the police station and made sure the Chief and his two man force had the information.

There is much to tell and no good way to tell it; just putting it in print will have to suffice.

Al lived alone, in a motor home, at a county ORV park several miles from McCleary. He exchanged security guard service and some custodial work for a stipend and a place to live in his RV.

The time line of the girl’s disappearance is fairly well established. During this period, Al,  and other park employees, were ushering out customers and securing the premises. After the place was locked up, Al went to his parked motor home for the rest of the night.

The McCleary Police Chief asked for help. First, the Greys Harbor County Sheriff office and state agencies. The FBI came in a few days late

Al had spent time in a Catholic orphanage as a young boy. He, and others, were subjected to severe abuse. A few, as adults,  finally decided to sue. They approached Al. He wasn’t terrible interested but wanted to show solidarity with his fellow orphans.  To him it was never about the money.  He told me more than once, “I would settle for $25 and a written apology”.

A few days into the investigation, the Sheriff’s deputies came calling. No search warrant. Al cooperated; let them look around.

The next day, the FBI arrived. They took his computer, .22 rifle, several hundred DVDs, digital camera, and busted up the interior of his motor home; wanton vandalism. Instead of opening a cabinet door, they tore it open with pry bars. Still no search warrant. Two days later the county did use a search warrant (illegible judge’s signature and no typed name) to seize his car.

A few days after taking his car, he was allowed to pick it up. The interior was torn up. One bonus was all the dog hair from his Cocker Spaniel was vacuumed.

Al was subjected to several interrogations. He cooperated because a little girl was missing. Seems Al was the only one focused on the most important issue. He wanted her found.  He wanted the “authorities” to stop wasting time and resources on him and cooperated so they wouldn’t waste valuable time looking at him. Finally, he had enough, and refused to cooperate further.

A big deal was made of Al, one time, buying ice cream from the ice cream truck, driving down the street his grandson lived on,  for his grandson and some of the grandson’s friends. The girl may, or may not, have been one of the kids getting ice cream.

A law enforcement officer told Al that he, Al, was seen talking to the girl the day before at the local library.  We all know law enforcement would never tell a lie, right?  Al had been at the library that day to return some books.  He didn’t recall talking to anyone except the librarian. He was there for just a few moments; long enough to drop off some books.

The FBI took his legal papers, including the orphanage lawsuit. The lead FBI dude let Al know that he, Mr. FBI, was a practicing Roman Catholic. Further, he let Al know how he felt about anyone suing the church. Alone with Al, he flat told him he would find something to nail Al on.

We all have a few important papers. Birth Certificate, DD 214, VA papers, tax returns, etc. Imagine losing all of them.

The county supervisors panicked and fired Al. He lost his job and a place to park his home.

Other than his car, none of Al’s property has ever been returned.

Al spent a large portion of his life as a professional soldier. He was a decorated Special Forces NCO who went on to what is referred to today as “special operations.”  Among other things, he was a Selous Scout (Rhodesia).   The big bad FBI agent browbeating Al,  in Al’s own residence, didn’t  know how close he was to death. Al sat there thinking of ways to kill him. Have no doubts that Al had the skills to do it.

No question Al made a good looking suspect. The authorities needed to check him out. No question he wasn’t in McCleary from early morning to late in the evening. No question where he was during the time the girl vanished. No question he couldn’t be in two places at once.  No question there were several witnesses as to Al’s whereabouts.  These included other ORV park employees and ORV park patrons being ushered out at closing time. Al was with some of these people from mid morning until nearly 10 p.m. Could he have, days before, made arrangements to meet the little girl that night?  Unlikely. Competent police work should have answered that question.

Al took two polygraph tests. He was told he “failed” them. Again, we know the FBI never lies.

Al supposedly had access to a “backhoe”. There was a large backhoe at the ORV park. Al had a hard time starting and driving a motor home,  let alone heavy machinery.

I think something like this went down among the FBI agents. “What the hell, he looks good for it, we are catching a lot of heat so lets break him and spin it to the press.  Find the little girl? Oh, well.”

For weeks Al lived with the thought he might be killed by the FBI. Maybe driving into town, being stopped on the way, and getting killed in a staged gunfight. The press is told, “We have good evidence and tried to arrest him. Sadly, he threatened our officers. Now he can’t tell us where he put the body.”  Plausible? He lived for months in Condition Orange.

Other suspects?  Her mother isn’t a candidate for Mother of the Year. The man she lived with creeped out  the kids in the neighborhood. The little girl talked to other kids more than once about running away.  Strong indicators she was being abused. Absent biological father. The little girl was living in what is best described as a white trash life. Alcohol, drugs, filthy trash filled house, etc.

The innuendos against Al’s good name were so bad his daughter and grandchildren moved to another county. Al wasn’t comfortable going to McCleary for groceries or an occasional restaurant meal and moved to another town in the area.  It took him some time to find a place to park he could afford. The financial strain nearly overwhelmed him.

The FBI pounced. Al was accused of having “child porn” on his computer.  He had bought the computer used. He had let others use the computer. Al was a very generous person. Who knows what a previous owner, or an acquaintance using the computer, had accessed. This was the computer taken with out a search warrant but, supposedly, with his permission.

By the end of the first month, the local police and sheriff deputies weren’t talking to the FBI. The Fan Belt Inspectors heavy handed tactics turned the locals off to the point the wait staff at the local restaurants refused to accept tips from them and suggested they find somewhere else to eat. Not the FBI’s finest hour, to be sure.

What is most disturbing is there seems to be no FBI accountability.
They can behave as they please and no one calls them on their behavior.

Al never went on the offensive. He didn’t want anything to distract from the search. Imagine, if you will, a trained Special Forces Southeast Asia veteran starting an agitation/propaganda operation in a small, rural, town, with an anti government predisposition (forestry, fisheries, spotted owl, constant urban “greenies” interference, etc.) and high unemployment. Wouldn’t that have been interesting!

Now I’m not naive. Al had some sexual kinks. He had scores of sex partners in his life. He liked them young and skinny, but always of legal age. I never picked up on a S&M vibe. He enjoyed taking explicit pictures. I also know the “facts” I have are seen through filters and colored by my personal friendship.

Al received a substantial settlement from the church, along with others, and used part of the proceeds to buy a nice older Prevost Motor home. He then hit the road.

On July 25, 2012, while going in for a hernia operation at the Phoenix VA Hospital, Al was arrested. Multiple officers, proned out at gun point, and handcuffed. He was arrested by local police on the behalf of the FBI. Oh, his Jeep, dog, and Motor home? One local cop did make a call to one of Al’s friends for him. Probably violated regulations doing so. The friend managed to secure Al’s property, and find a home for “Princess”. During the time Al was in jail his Motor home was ransacked.

He didn’t see a judge until 8/31/12. He didn’t see a lawyer for four months. He was moved around from jail to  jail; Florence, AZ, Las Vegas, and finally Tacoma while not being allowed any outside contact or telephone calls.  While being held, he was treated like the Unibomber. Solitary, thin mattress, no pillow, no books, yellow jump suit, and shackled wherever he went. Finally, he was charged with child pornography and bail was set at $250,000. A friend posted his bail. Out on bail, he wore an ankle monitor and was on close supervision by the probation officers. He didn’t go to trial until the next spring.

Al’s resources were being depleted, but he was able to hire a lawyer. The lawyer found out the FBI had taken Al’s charges to four different judges until they found one who would sign for his arrest. That was the last good thing that the lawyer accomplished. All he ever brought Al was one plea bargain offer after another. Al’s friends, including me, urged him to go to trial. Finally, exhausted and wanting closure, he agreed to plead to a Misdemeanor and be on lifetime probation.

At this time, the prosecutors told Al he was no longer a person of interest in the Lindsey Baum case; he had been “cleared”.

Seems there are  levels of probation, and all kinds of ways probation officers can make you jump through hoops. Al got their full press.

Living in an RV Park in Apache Junction, AZ, Al was contacted by the Apache Junction police. Convinced they had a major predator on their hands, they told Al what their plans for him were. Al presented his case to them. They checked it out, discovered they were being bullshitted by the Feds, and put an end to the major harassments. This was just a few weeks ago.

Throughout this ordeal, what hurt Al the most was the loss of his reputation. Internet searches have sites now that posted raw, unedited internal police documents of the Lindsey Baum case. Al doesn’t look good in some of them. Fact is, he was often a damned fool. Still, that is not a crime.

The pain all this caused Al’s daughters and grandchildren must be considerable.

Consider the amount of our taxpayer money spent on this,  and for what? Guess it shows what a pissed off  FBI agent can do to a citizen.

Speaking of damned fools, how smart am I in posting this? Oh,  that’s right, I am a well seasoned fool. Damned if I will self censor.

Should any federal agent read this, consider this. You need to clean your own  house. If all of you won’t respect the rights of your fellow citizens, why should any of us citizens respect you?

Sunday, July 28, 2013

Water Carriers on Strike?



As seen on MSNBC,  as reported by the Associated Press. Not Obama friendly, this information.

http://usnews.nbcnews.com/_news/2013/07/28/19738595-ap-4-in-5-americans-live-in-danger-of-falling-into-poverty-joblessness

Guess AP didn't like having their telephones bugged.

MSNBC? Someone in the White House is saving WTF.

Saturday, July 27, 2013

Sales Management Rant


This is a rant aimed at people in sales, emphasis automobile sales, and sales managers. May be of marginal interest, or none at all,  to others.

Recently a young friend and I were discussing focus as it pertains to work, specifically sales.

In the years I worked in retail automobile sales, the end all and be all was seeing an inventory piece leave the lot with a temporary permit in the back window. Without that happening, everything else was meaningless. Customer satisfaction, proper paperwork, putting away demos, etc., all played a part. None was critical to the dealership remaining in business. No sales, no cash flow, no business.


Sales are hard. People don’t just roll over and part with significant sums of money without a lot of effort. It is easy to become immersed in the details, schedule meetings, attending training sessions and all the other distractions. It is easy to trick fuck your mind that you are actually doing something. Yes, that was me from time to time. The further you work your way up in management, the easier it is to insulate yourself from the real world of belly to belly with a customer. If, every day, you aren’t feeling that same anxiety in your gut that your newest hire green pea is feeling, you suck as a manager. You subordinates know, in their gut, that you are phoning it in. 

Want an example? “I want to see a credit app before I give them numbers”. (Prepare a proposal to show the customer).  Oh, you don’t want to “waste” your valuable time?  Git!


My dealer principal had a personal friendship with the president of a car company whose line we carried. The parent company fired him (for what? Who knows with Koreans). He bought an old, established automobile aftermarket remanufacturer. He then talked my boss into jump starting his sales efforts. My boss then made it, in part, my project. Soon it was my problem, er, project.

A classic oil/vinegar corporate conflict ensued. Corporate MBA mindset meets car retail, “produce or git”, ethos.

Returning to focus, it was apparent to us, the car guys, that their “car leaving the lot with a temporary permit” was the telephone ringing at their inbound sales desk. More phone calls, more sales. Making that phone ring became our focus for the next several months. We were successful. We were resented, even hated, by everyone, except the people manning the sales desk, in that company.

We focused on short belly to belly sales presentations at every repair shop and parts retailer we could find. Goal? A minimum of twenty physical contacts per day.  By short, we had a thirty second presentation, and a five minute presentation. The single goal was to get our little stick decal with our phone number on the wall next to their phone. Stick our name in their mind, so they would call us when they needed something. The gate keeper? Someone at that business trusted that person to be their public face. Who were we to disagree? Many, many times the gate keeper was also the one ordering parts and supplies.

One large account was one of the larger auto dismantlers in the country. They carried us as a minor sideline.  We were invited to have a training meeting with their inside sales force. My presentation was tailored to busy people who needed a few bullet points and access to more information when needed. Start to finish, it was about twenty minutes followed by another ten minutes of questions and answers. Was it effective?  Months later the dismantler bought the remanufacturer. Was my presentation the reason? Big plants grow from small seeds, bubba.

My tenure with this operation was less than two years. I flat wouldn’t get involved with their bullshit meetings, the endless Sigma Six, ISO 9000 blah, blah, blah discussion, or what buyers they had taken to lunch. My small crew was thrown out of more places by noon on Monday then the rest of those asshats saw in a week. I’m sure a two hour lunch in an upscale restaurant is more fun then dodging a junk yard dog in the weed filled parking area of a West Texas oilfield support business. I also know which makes the phone ring. Focus, remember?

Whenever I write something like this, the YAHBUT choir starts singing. “Well, yah, but our/my situation is different because…………” Please understand, I don’t give a rat’s ass about your situation. If you have anything on the ball, you will be asking yourself, “How does this fit my situation? What is here that I can use”? I doubt I’ve ever had a truly original idea in my whole life. I’ve made a living, supported my family, and kept the lights on by listening to people smarter than I am. I still remember that old school car sales trainer, Jackie Cooper, saying, “Winners do what losers won’t”.



In summary, my advice to my young friend was this. Identify that key element in your business that keeps you in business. Focus on that, and don’t let yourself be distracted. Other things will require your attention, and you need to deal with them. Don’t let them keep you from your key element.

For those who have taken flying lessons, remember the instructor’s admonishment to, first and always, fly the damned airplane.

All photographs taken from Google. If they are yours, and you want them removed, please contact me.

Tuesday, July 23, 2013

First Rifle



Old NFO wrote a great blog about his first rifle, and it’s history.

 http://oldnfo.org/2013/07/22/my-first-rifle-2/

I never had my own firearm as a kid but always had access to whatever was in the family, mainly a Winchester lever action .22 with an octagon barrel and a circa 1950 Winchester Model 94 in .30-.30. We were never handgun or shotgun people. Those two lever actions put a lot of meat on our table. During my teens, Moffat County, CO had a bounty on jack rabbits. Think a pair of ears was worth a nickel. A lot of jacks were shot!


Two bolt actions were added to the family collection, a .257 Roberts (maybe-that is what we fed it) cheap surplus Italian rifle that stayed about two seasons and,  finally, a Model 70 with a scope in .30-06. That was the first firearm with a scope in our house.




The local town had an active NRA  Junior Rifleman program with some decent .22s - all single shot bolts. I spent six years in the program, and learned to shoot from some really good people. My sister, some nine years younger than me,  was in the program and is good! Scary good.


My first purchase was a VFW discard .30-.40 Kraig that needed some serious repairs. I was around 14 at the time, bought it at a local auction for, if memory serves, $15.

I could beat my father hands down killing paper. No one, and I mean no one, was better when it came to shooting game. He said it came from his youth when it was get good or starve; what he called, “The belly flapping principal”.  He wasn’t kidding. He was in the middle of eleven children. His father died when he was fifteen. The older brother and sisters had moved on. He fed his younger brother and sisters with the game he shot. Best poacher in Northwest Colorado.

The Junior NRA background really helped when I went into the Army. Qualifying with a M-1, I missed three times. The first, a 5 second pop up at 20’,  I flat missed - too high. The next two were 10 seconds at 350 yards. I hit them, but it was raining so hard the scorer couldn’t see. Weak shit! (And I never, ever, had a M-1 thumb).

At the time I went through Army training, the Army didn’t have a formal sniper program.  A handful of us from the Basic Training Battalion spent three days with some senior NCO’s  doing stuff the others didn’t. Me? Totally defeated by camouflage! On to Combat Engineer school where they found I was a natural with a M2 .50 and a 3.5 Rocket Launcher. Damn, that was fun. Not so fun hauling a M-2, as a crew, on road marches.



The rifle I didn’t like was the M -14. Today, I understand, it is a fine weapon. The early ones weren’t. Please, no arguments. The stocks would break at the pistol grip with hard use. Any kind of sustained fire would get them hot, and they would jam. Never saw a M-16.


Not confident with the reliability of a M-14, I bought a Mannlicher Model 39, high comb, 3x9 variable scope, in .308. Please understand, we were about one hour in a fast tank from the Fulda Gap. If we went to war, I wanted something I could depend on.



We had a very good, and active, Rod and Gun club. We had weekend access to a 500 meter range. A whole lot of my money got spent on toys, and their food, at the Rod and Gun Club. Good times!

Seems like in any military unit there is a small group of dedicated shooters and a few lurkers. Most of the rest aren’t interested. Never understood it. Yes, we weren’t at war, yet. Many of us spent time at the East German border fences. If that didn’t sharpen your concentration, damn it, you were a casualty waiting to happen.

Since I no longer hunt, have let all my hunting rifles go to those who will use them. As to the rest? Gosh, I’ve lost them! Think I’m down to a cheap Chinese single shot .17 air rifle. Nothing to see here, storm trooper, just move on.

Getting back to the M-14. Our small group of shooters included our company armorer, a cook (who was NRA Junior growing up), and a Camp Perry winner. Depending on our company commander, we were able to take our issue M-14 to the Rod and Gun Club range. We fired well over a thousand rounds of Military Surplus Belgian made FMJ 7.62 NATO with those M-14s. We never fixed the reliability problems with the tools and lubes we had at the time.

So, a long blog entry that says little but, it is my blog. From the time I was a little kid,  firearms were a tool, nothing more. We learned how to use one safely, like we learned to always move a tractor in reverse first in case the tires were stuck, or why knives had sheaths and why you cut away from your body. Oh, and don’t use your finger as a drift pin.

All photographs taken off Google. Hope they are all in the public domain. If not, contact me.

Monday, July 22, 2013

Boycott This!


It seems several music “stars” are boycotting Florida and other “stand your ground” states.


Oh, the horror! Can’t buy overpriced tickets to see performers lip sync in person.
Now, if it were someone important like the NFL……………

Just think of the venues that will now be available for performers who simply want to entertain. Works for me.


Sunday, July 21, 2013

Steam II

video

Steam Engine


video

My first ever attempt to post a video. Please excuse the amateur effort. Taken with a Flip camera (h/t Milepost154). First lesson learned; my  monopod isn't steady enough. I need to use the tripod. Second lesson is learning how to edit! 

This is the UP 844 pulling the Cheyenne Frontier Days train Southbound from Brighton, CO at about 7:45 p.m. 7/20/13. Please skip to around :55 where you can start to hear the whistle. At around 1:00, you can start to see the headlight.

The diesel behind the steam locomotive is a UP Centennial, the largest single diesel locomotive ever built.


According to the UP sites, they use a diesel unit for safety. The breaking effort far exceeds the steam design.

Friday, July 19, 2013

Disgusting, Vile Rant


Now I go somewhere I probably shouldn’t; people making money off their dead kids.

Tracy Martin and Sybrina  Fulton were working, prior to their son’s death, as a truck driver and a county employee, respectively. They separated when Treyvon was a toddler. Now they are on the talk circuit. How are they paying their bills; where is the money coming from? Of the “settlement” from the homeowners association, how much went to the lawyers?

April 20, 1999, Daniel Mauser was among thirteen people killed at Columbine High School. At the time, Tom Mauser, his father, had a management job with the State of Colorado. Since then, he seems to work full time at “gun control”. The rest of the parents got on with their lives. How is Tom Mauser paying his bills; where is the money coming from.

Javad Marshall-Fields and Vivian Wolfe were shot and killed in  Aurora, CO., June 18, 2010.  He had witnessed a gang related murder and was scheduled to testify at a trial. He was killed to keep him from testifying. How he happened to be where a gang related murder took place hasn’t been made clear. His mother, Rhonda Fields, has capitalized on her son’s death to get herself elected as a Colorado State Representative, despite a less than stellar background.


Where, and how, did an airline employee get the money to run for public office? Her criminal record would get her fired from most companies. Someone is paying her bills.

I personally know one state legislator (she once worked for me) and I know who put up the money for her to run.

We now see some of the Newton, CN parents traipsing around the country. How many are independently wealthy? Where is that money coming from?

Gabriella Giffords and Mark Kelly are flying around the country in a private jet promoting “gun control”. We know the jet is controlled by the Colorado Monfort family. If I were a stockholder in any of the Monfort companies, I would want to know if that jet is operating on Monfort’s dime, or are the stockholders picking up the tab? Or, are we taxpayers eating the tax write offs on the airplane.

How dare you, WSF, question the people who have suffered such horrible losses? Have you no compassion, no empathy?

Very simply, these people have put themselves into the public arena. They are advocating laws that affect me. Damn right, I’m going to question what they are doing.

Now, if we follow the money, it will lead to someone, who can afford to subsidize people that engender public sympathy, to advance an agenda. Think I’m wrong? Bite me!

This rant isn’t directed to people who are trying to make a difference, to make their loss mean something, and to keep others from suffering that loss. I may not agree with them, but they have my respect. It is the people who make a living off that loss that turn my stomach. Your mileage may differ.


Monday, July 15, 2013

Facebook Bullshit


Posted on Facebook by someone named Pauley- Fitness Barnett. Reposted by a retired High School teacher, who should know better. Moonbat Progressives!

My comment on her repost? Oh, bullshit!

Sunday, July 14, 2013

Neighborhood Watch


You look out for your neighbors, you call the police when you see something that looks wrong, and you have joined your Neighborhood Watch. Good for you. Now contemplate your limitations. You are not the police. Think now about how you will handle situations in your neighborhood.

Some of my long term part time jobs are doing property inspections for mortgage companies and the occasional insurance company.
The mortgage company wants to know what is happening with the property they finance. For those folks who make their payments on time, a photograph, once or twice a year, of the front of the property is sufficient.

When people fall behind on their payments, monthly visits are common.

The requirements for the photographs they want are, at a minimum, as follows.

  A street sign showing I was on the correct street.
A house number showing I was at the correct property.
          A picture of the front of the property.
         A picture of the neighborhood, i.e., a view along the street showing other homes in the neighborhood.

Some inspections require more, especially when the property is abandoned, or the lender wants to know if the property is occupied.

I have lost tract of the number of times I’ve been challenged by a local resident, or even the property occupant, with the demand, often in a belligerent tone, “What are you doing”.  The answer now, having dealt with this too many times, is, “I am about my lawful business” and saying no more.  I’ve found, trying to be “civil”, simply leads to more questions. I’m not a diplomat, and I’m not wasting my time with chest puffers and self important blowhards. In fact, what I am doing from a public street or sidewalk is none of their business. I do refrain from saying, “Look asshole, if you paid your damn mortgage on time, I wouldn’t be here”.

The point here is this. If it is not your property, the activity seems suspicious, you don’t see clear evidence of a crime being committed, and you are not a sworn or reserve police officer, keep you distance. Call 911 and be prepared to be a good witness. You are neither trained to handle crime nor are you empowered by law.

Just to show I’m not totally stupid, I have a small sheet printed up with my name, picture, picture of my vehicle(s), and license plate number(s). When I’m in an area with several locations to visit, or an area I am in regularly, I make a visit to the local police office and drop off one of my information sheets. I have extras to give to any officer who stops me as I make my rounds.

“Yes, we know who he is and what he is doing.  No laws are being broken. Thank you, though, for calling us”, is a whole lot easier on everyone.

So folks, use your head, and don’t become the next George Zimmerman.


Fighter Planes - What is Old, What is New?

F-35 vs F-104

Is it just me, or, are there a lot of similarities? Fuselage, cockpit, and wings? Of course, the wing sweep is reversed, and the engines shrouded.

Maybe the function dictates the form. Not an engineer, so I can't say.

Wednesday, July 10, 2013

Bowing To The Power Of The State, and Boobs


Some days you must bow to the power of the state to keep a trouble free life. Drivers License renewal was this morning’s task. As these things go, not too terrible. One and three quarters hours were spent on hard plastic chairs while watching my fellow citizens.  Actual time spent with the staff, about ten minutes. At my age, cannot renew on line. Guess the powers that are want to see if I’m alive.

What is it with women showing off their boobs at work? The woman taking my picture was showing more skin than a Hooters waitress.  The woman giving the eye test and typing the forms was showing a lot of chest. I see this often, like, for instance, bank tellers and business offices. I don’t see it in convenience or grocery stores very often.

Being a fully functional heterosexual male, I notice. Irritates me, because I’m there for business,  and I find it distracting and rude. If I want to see boobs, I’ll go to a jiggle joint.  These are the same women that are the first to complain about “respect”. Listen, dummy, the more skin you show, the less respect you get.

When my sons were young, the wife and I were shopping for new beds. At one place, the saleswoman wasn’t wearing a bra and her dress would fall open. It didn’t happen until the wife’s was looking elsewhere. We left, and the wife wondered why. She was surprised when I told her the reason.

At another store, the saleswoman knew her product. She was able to show construction details relating to the stoutness of the beds verses active boys. Her clothing was appropriate, and she made a nice sale.

I’m not immune to the little head thinking for the big head; just look at some of my relationships. Rarely though does the, “I’ve got large breasts, can you help me” ploy work with me.

Going back to my fellow citizens in the DMV holding pen, a couple sitting in front of me were disgusting. A young woman, teens, was wearing white shorts and no underwear. You could tell because the material was translucent. She was with an older man (father/grandfather?).  What the hell were they thinking?


Guess I’ve turned into a grumpy old man.

Saturday, July 6, 2013

Holiday Bummer


E coli breakout in our little Gotham city water supply. Seemed to be confined to the high rent district with the reverse osmosis system. No one got sick, per news reports, but most restaurants and fast food emporiums were forced to close.

Closed over a four day holiday weekend?  That will leave a mark on the old bottom line, and short checks for the workers.

No sweat at our house. We've been drinking bottled water for the past ten years and checking the purity for that long. Spent close to $100 on the tester. Worth every penny. Careful with the showers; lots of soap. Didn't worry, we are hooked to the old antiquated system, like 80 years old antiquated.

In past travels, tried to bring my own water or find a store and buy bottled water. Best municipal water I've tasted is Anchorage. That was a few years ago.

Thursday, July 4, 2013

Not So Bright Drivers


Yo, dummy! It is the 4th of July. Heavy police presence. Reader Boards reading, "DUI Enforcement. The Heat Is On". Informal bets among the officers as to who writes the most citations. Day by day desk warriors pissed of to be back in a Patrol car for the holiday.  Not a good time to draw attention to yourself. Speeding, tailgating, weaving in and out of traffic just draws attention to you. Even hardcore scofflaws like myself know it is time to chill.

Went to a family gathering today; about a 70 mile round trip. Light traffic moving along just over the speed limit. Knuckleheads everywhere. Po po everywhere issuing good citizen citations. Bubba, if you got a ticket today your earned it. Doesn't matter if you are stone sober, you did something to draw attention to yourself.

Lots of political discussions today. Think most of us believed this is appropriate,




Tuesday, July 2, 2013

For Dog Owners

Shamelessly taken off Facebook. Believe it is attributed to PetlandOhio.



Can You Say Midterm Elections?


http://www.nbcnews.com/health/employers-get-extra-year-provide-health-insurance-6C10520868

Call me cynical, I find this to be a purely political move to save the Democrat's asses.

Monday, July 1, 2013

Confusion


If some of you think I've stopped following you, or are double following you, or are as confused as I am, blame it on a) Internet Explorer 8 vs Google, and b) ineptness.

Recently started working, in a very limited way, for a company that only uses Explorer 8.  Required some changes on my computer  in order to access their site. Now Google and IE8 seem to be fighting over who will be the default browser. This does not enhance the computer experience, nor does it speed things up. Aarg!

In the process, some blogs dropped off my reading list. Those are being put back on. However, someone's reading list got added to my reading list. Some of these new blogs seem interesting so won't make changes for a few days.

Sorry for any confusion this may be causing.