It's sad really..

The highlight of my week:

The Partner:'Sling..Get down there and remove that sprinkler valve so we can replace it'.

Sling:'Is the master valve off?'

The Partner:'Yeah..Don't worry..Just stick your whole face down there and unscrew that puppy!'..



The Partner:'I musta turned off the wrong one'..

Sling:*CHOKE*..*Gurgle*..*COUGH*...YA THINK??'

The sad part isn't that I got literally knocked on my ass.
The sad part,..is that it was the most fun I had all week.

Maybe I'll get lucky,and catch the Pig Flu next week.

Ask Sling..

Dear Sling,
Would you please explain to me why all those Left-wing,drive-by media Liberals are up in arms over enhanced interrogation techniques?
I mean,come on,how can you call 'waterboarding' torture?
It sounds to me like one of those joyous rides at the waterpark,where you are treated to some refreshing respite from the relentless Summer heat.

It even has the word 'Enhanced' in the description,..just like my new-and-improved laundry detergent,which always keeps my favorite Bundist uniform smelling Spring time fresh!

Besides,if it really was torture,how could some one survive the experience 168 times?
You'd think that if it were at all unpleasant,those evil people that aren't real Christians would have given up secret terrorist information things after only 80 or 90 sessions,which they most certainly did NOT!

..I think I've made my point.

It seems clear to me that waterboarding isn't any more like torture,than playing in the sprinklers as a child.

Yours truly,
Lush Rimjob


Dear holy flyin' shit!.
Would some body PLEASE save me from psycho-brain-washed,twist the legal semantics until you come up with something to convince yourselves you can get away with violating international law,unscrupulous self-serving and reactionary sociopaths like you fuckin' pathetic ditto-heads?
Don't you freakin' get it??
NOBODY is buying the medieval rationale behind your desire to exercise your sadistic fantasies in the name of 'National Security'..
YOU LOST !
WE REJECT YOU!!
GET THEE THE FUCK HENCE!!!..
..son of a friggin' bitch.

Anyway..I'm here to help,..so here is my advice;

CONGRATULATIONS!..YOU are the winner of our random 'Summer of Fun' drawing!..
This entitles you,and a friend,to an all expense paid trip to Sling's Domain,where you'll be treated to the spectacular thrill of our new and invigorating 'Electric Rectal-Cattle-Prod and Genital-Piercing Carnival Extravaganza'!..

But wait!..There's more!

Mention your exclusive password,..'Dick Cheney',..and you'll receive an additional 167 rides,..Absolutely Free!

..It's the perfect Summer time treat.

Pre-emptive Friday Jukebox Video

I had it on my mind earlier this week,to play a depression era folk tune by Pete Seeger entitled 'Freight Train'.
Perhaps you know of it.
It's bright,and simple,and pops up in my head from time to time.

Well,I lickity-split on over to YouTube,and had no problem ringing it up.
I was more than a little surprised to discover that Pete didn't write the song!
It was written by an unassuming woman by the name of Elizabeth Cotten.

COOL!..I love learning new stuff about old music,..it's evolution and such,..so I was anxious to hear Liz and Pete perform the duet.
When 'WTF??' to my wondering eyes should appear?..but that Ms. Cotten plays guitar left-handed!..

So?..There's a shit-ton of left-handed guitarists you say.
Paul McCartney springs immediately to mind.
True enough,but they play left-handed guitars...Liz plays a right-handed guitar Upside Down!..
This puts the order of strings,top to bottom,..in reverse!
Hard enough to pick and chord,without having to imagine the whole thing ass backwards,and topsy-turvy.
..By my way o' thinkin',this is equivalent to playing the flute,by sucking on the opposite end.



'Freight Train'

Quite naturally,I obsessed over this singular phenomenon.
I flipped my fiddle over in my lap,..and had no friggin' clue how to proceed.

..This is what I finally came up with.



'dniW ehT nI tsuD'

That's all you get.

Monday Memory Dump..

..I cleared about a hundred random pics from my camera's memory,and thought I'd share these few.

Have a great week kids!..

'Twas the 18th of April..

..When young master Matthew came into this world!



Happy 28th Birthday Son!

Can we talk?..

I have organized my 18 hour work week thus;
On Monday and Wednesday I go to the shop,and put in 8 hours with The Partner traveling to the various complexes in the system,taking care of such routine and unexpected tasks as might arise.
On Thursday,I finish the remaining two hours working alone,performing scheduled maintenance at Winston Gardens,located about a mile from the homestead.
It's all quite unhurried.

I'm able to wake up a little bit later,and enjoy a couple of cups of coffee before I take the 10 minute bike ride to the complex.
The work is pleasant,and I can go about my business in quiet solitude.

I'd been there for about 20 minutes on this morning when,out of nowhere,it struck me.

You know,..that guttural,roiling sensation that begins in your bowels,and reaches all the way back to your,..let's just say that the laxative effects of fresh brewed java,combined with the brief,albeit brisk exercise of bicycling,had conspired to make themselves imminently apparent..

'Okay..Stop what your doing Sling'..,and make your way post-haste to the safety and convenience of the clubhouse restroom,some 200 yards on the whole other side of the quad.
I arrived none too soon let me tell you,and proceeded to hurry myself through the entry door.

..it's locked.

Let me rephrase that..
It's not just locked,.It's Fucking Locked!!,..and according to that huge 'Hours of Operation' sign that has,until this moment,escaped my attention,it will remain so for another hour-and-a-half!
It's wits-gathering time if ever there was.

'This is a simple physics problem involving the interaction of time and space',..I reason!
Let's see...No time..No space..Reason doesn't enter into the equation.
But wait!..
The Little League ballpark is three blocks down the street,and there's a public restroom!
I can make it!..'It's just a matter of mind over sphincter!'

I keep repeating that little mantra to myself as I race back to my bike,and begin pedaling my less-than-happy ass down the road to salvation.
(The logistics of riding a bicycle in my present physical condition,I will save for a future post...yer welcome).

I'm fully two blocks into this desperate mission,..my destination shining on the hill like Camelot,..when my bicycle chain chatters off the rear sprocket,leaving the pedals spinning fruitlessly beneath my feet.
Without skipping a beat!..I dismount,and with one foot on the pedal,back leg pumping furiously,begin power gliding scooter fashion the last block,straight up to the door of the men's room.

Now,..I don't know if the restrooms remain unlocked when there's not a ballgame in progress,and at this point,I don't give a damn.
Open or closed,..inside or outside,..I'm not leaving the playground in the same condition in which I arrived!
I dropped my bike unceremoniously at the door,and reached for the door handle..

..'This is pretty impressive'..I mused at my leisure.
Brilliant white porcelain,set against sky blue ceramic tiles.
The hand soap dispensers filled with refreshingly scented liquid,..and just look at the quality of the tissue!
..This may very well be the most beautiful public restroom I've ever seen.

So..Yer telling me you want to be a singer?

Right at the top of my list of guilty pleasures,is watching those delusional bumpkins on talent shows make perfect fools of themselves on national television.
You can see it coming a mile away!

'Music is my life!!',they'll gush,..and then proceed to butcher a melody beyond comprehension.




Well,..don't I feel like a complete moron right about now.

Many thanks to my dear friend Yellowdog Granny,for catching me off guard.

'I dreamed a dream'

If you can't beat 'em..

'SUNDAY JABBERWOCKY'

..O fair and midsbe mavel knelt,
aside shimmering bediders.
Amidst the inworg pulan strains,
of fleaters soft reminders.

Sweet fragrance of ridenta wafts,
cool spray of squing doth misten.
Vemingis winson songs bring pause,
to those that deign to listen.

'Tis here that foolones gather flings,
and contemplate their sorrow.
Winglya spread their regis wings,
and denorro on the 'morrow..

HAPPY EASTER!..

Video stress..

It's been raining all week here in O-Town,so my first inclination for this Friday's music video was to play 'April Showers' by one of my favorite crooners,..Al Jolson.
..I love the guy!

But the only best version I could find,and after some brief introspection, I finally deemed inappropriate due to the fact that he performed it in 'Blackface'.
Maybe I over think things too much..I mean,..that was then,and this now,and I'm not sure political correctness should determine whether or not I post a heartwarming tune,just because it happens to be performed by a middle-aged Jewish guy disguised as a black man.

It's the white man's dilemma,..I suppose.

In any case,..I decided to let a blind Hispanic kid represent my soggy situation for me in its stead.

I am much more than pleased with the result!



'Ain't no sunshine'

It's Friday,..and life is soaked to the skin in Sling's Domain.

Sometimes,..it's not all glamour and excitement.

I reported to work last Tuesday,as a freshly minted member of the O-Town Housing Authority.
This is my new headquarters!--->

Or,as those of us in the inner circle refer to it,..'The Shop'.
I had shaken hands with the Head Honcho in Charge of Welcoming the New Guys the day before,and thanked him for the opportunity.

'Don't thank me yet',.he cautioned..'You haven't met your new Partner'.

'Beg yer pardon?'

'He's a cranky old bastard!'..

'Curious?'..I thought to myself.

Apparently,Head Honcho regards that as some kind of character flaw.
..Go figure.

Much as I suspected,it turns out that Partner and I are birds of a feather..Cut from the same cloth..Any number of colloquialisms one might choose to apply.

We'd gone about the morning business of assessing the sprinkler function in one of the county's numerous complexes,and enjoyed our lunch in the community day room,..when Partner allowed,

'I'm gonna take a nap in the truck..Wake me when lunch break is over'..

'No problem!..I'll go outside,and have a cigarette'.

'Just make sure you smoke that goddamm thing downwind from ME!'

'HEY!..Take yer fuckin' nap UPWIND from ME!'..
Thus,..the bonds of lasting friendship were hermetically sealed.

Having established a mutual disregard for the other's foibles,we concentrated just yesterday on the biggest problem facing landscape technologists the world over.
Finding the perfect 'fill dirt'.
This ain't no small task!..

New concrete walkways had been installed at the Park Place facility,and it was our mission to fill the subsequent devastation with soil suitable for applying a nice level playing field to encourage the growth of fragile 'Kentucky Blue' grass seeds.
Do you know how hard it is to find decent dirt?
I'll tell ya how hard it is to find decent dirt..

It's a common misconception amongst the general public,that the government maintains great underground bunkers filled to the brim with the dirt they've accumulated from,..you know,..digging undergound bunkers.
(See the beauty of that scheme?)..

But no..

We drove around to every likely location in the O-Town municipality.
We went to and fro'...Hither and yon,..Eastside,Westside..All around the town.
Every where we attempted to drive our pointed shovels into the county owned earth,we encountered bedrock no more than 1/16 of an inch below the surface.
Holy..Flyin'..OWWW!

After several unsuccessful attempts,I wondered aloud..

'Why don't we just roll up on some body's yard in our official 1997 Ford F150
County Truck,..and confiscate THEIR dirt?'..

'What??'

'You know..We could just claim it was Imminent Domain!'..

..'You're one sick sonofabitch Sling'.

Now I ask you..What the hell good is it being a tool of the so-called Housing 'Authority', ..if you can't arbitrarily wield ruthless power?

...Phhtt.

Sunday Audio/Video Geekfest Bonanza!..

Like most bloggers,..I'd rather eat a jar of mayonnaise that's been left out in the sun for a week,before I'll pay for something that I can find on the internet for free..

If you've ever been frustrated by those 'Imbedding Disabled' music videos you find on YouTube,Veoh,Dailymotion,..etc,..you're gonna want to click HERE,where you'll find this wonderful new toy!..


From here you can enter the video's link (URL),or upload a video from your computer,and convert it to an AVI,WMV,or MOV file that you may then upload to your blog,..and even if it has been disabled,or removed from YouTube,..it will still be there,all bright and shiny,for you to enjoy for decades to come!

****But Wait!****

It will also convert that video to an MP3 audio file,which you can then upload to your Ipod,or other portable-whiz-bang-music-playing machine.
...that's cool as hell.
Now,I don't own a cell phone,but it's my understanding that you can even convert videos to that format as well!
All of these operations take place in cyberspace,so there is no software to download and install on your computron.

I've used this site for some time,but they've only just re-built the whole shebang this very Sunday morning,to this extremely user-friendly interface.
The free version is limited to 10 conversions per day,(it will do all 10 at once if you like),and they have a 'Premium' version that will accommodate an unlimited amount of conversions,..for a fee.
...(Think 'mayonnaise')..

I really hope some few among you are able to make handy use of this little tool.
Feel free to e-mail me for help if you need it,and I'll respond in some fashion,..sooner or later,..eventually.

Have a great week kids!..

Behind every good man..

It's been one of the great joys of my life,to have been forever surrounded by beautiful women.

Not just in the physical sense,although,I can say without fear of equivocation that I come from a family of gorgeous females..

No..I'm talkin' about that thing,whatever the hell it is,inside the gentle soul of a woman that tempers the natural inclination of a man to strike out in blind indifference,and remind him to consider the consequences of those things he might otherwise do in the heat of conflict.
Are you following any of this?

..No matter.

My point,..assuming I have one,..is that a man's weakness for his woman,is his greatest strength.




'She is his only need'

A little bit about Ragdolls..

When Mom O' LK brought Bailey home from the orphanage,we began to notice right from the beginning that he seemed to have a number of qualities that you don't necessarily find in your average feline furbag.
The older he got,the more he acted like a dog!

..I don't know how to a'splain it exactly.I mean,..he's got all that curiosity goin' on,and will sit in the middle of the floor,master of all he surveys,in that regal way cats have,..but he is entirely devoid of any hint of 'aloofness'.
You know,..that look and attitude cats have that makes it clear that you're only just barely worthy enough to feed them,and clean their cat box?..Bailey can't do it...It ain't in him.

There were a number of other things that got us wondering just what breed of cat he might be,so we lickity-split on over to the internets,and found him listed perfectly under 'Ragdolls'.
So named for their tendency to go limp when you pick them up.

You can squish 'em,and cuddle 'em,and generally toss 'em about,and they just love it!
Little Newt will scoop Bailey up in one arm,and go about his Newt business,..the whole time Bailey's having the time of his life.
..More like a puppy,than a cat.

And like a puppy,Bailey's favorite past-time is a rousing game of 'fetch'..




Another really remarkable thing about them,is the texture of their fur.
It's more like a Rabbit's fur,..or even a Mink's!
You'd have to feel it to know what I'm talkin' about,but trust me,one day Bailey is gonna make a fine pair of oven mitts..