Wednesday, July 19, 2006

The big SkyBlue funbus.

I don't have much time to be all that witty at the moment, so I won't then. Instead I'll just show a snap of my ride around town/the beach/drive-thru botox clinic.


Just to make my little babby bro Fathead jealous, I'll mention that she's a 1967 Jeepster Commando (C101) with 3.7L automatic Buick V6 engine, 190hp. And she boots it. Though she doesn't quite match the performance and charisma of the late 90's model Skoda Octavia, it's a sweet little head turner nonetheless.

Monday, July 17, 2006

Miss Senior America

I'm still starstruck by this once in a lifetime event - spotting Miss Senior America taking a stroll down Main St in broad daylight. This veteran of the catwalk surely knew how to play the crowd, giving us the occasional tune and jig as she shamelessly flaunted her latest CD release. Fair play sure.

Saturday, July 08, 2006

Happy times at the Kentucky Derby



Later Friday afternoon, we went out on the balcony of the press box and I tried to describe the difference between what we were seeing today and what would be happening tomorrow. This was the first time I'd been to a Derby in ten years, but before that, when I lived in Louisville, I used to go every year. Now, looking down from the press box, I pointed to the huge grassy meadow enclosed by the track. "That whole thing," I said, "will be jammed with people; fifty thousand or so, and most of them staggering drunk. It's a fantastic scene--thousands of people fainting, crying, copulating, trampling each other and fighting with broken whiskey bottles. We'll have to spend some time out there, but it's hard to move around, too many bodies."

"Is it safe out there?" Will we ever come back?"

"Sure," I said. "We'll just have to be careful not to step on anybody's stomach and start a fight." I shrugged. "Hell, this clubhouse scene right below us will be almost as bad as the infield. Thousands of raving, stumbling drunks, getting angrier and angrier as they lose more and more money. By midafternoon they'll be guzzling mint juleps with both hands and vomitting on each other between races. The whole place will be jammed with bodies, shoulder to shoulder. It's hard to move around. The aisles will be slick with vomit; people falling down and grabbing at your legs to keep from being stomped. Drunks pissing on themselves in the betting lines. Dropping handfuls of money and fighting to stoop over and pick it up."

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One of the key genetic rules in breeding dogs, horses or any other kind of thoroughbred is that close inbreeding tends to magnify the weak points in a bloodline as well as the strong points. In horse breeding, for instance, there is a definite risk in breeding two fast horses who are both a little crazy. The offspring will likely be very fast and also very crazy. So the trick in breeding thoroughbreds is to retain the good traits and filter out the bad. But the breeding of humans is not so wisely supervised, particularly in a narrow Southern society where the closest kind of inbreeding is not only stylish and acceptable, but far more convenient--to the parents--than setting their offspring free to find their own mates, for their own reasons and in their own ways. ("Goddam, did you hear about Smitty's daughter? She went crazy in Boston last week and married a nigger!")

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Magical stuff, some of MrHunter S. Thompson's first printed work The Kentucky Derby is Decadent and Depraved.

checkitalloutat http://www.derbypost.com/hunter.html

Tuesday, July 04, 2006

Post Script


If anybody is overly concerned with the levels of cynicism on this page: don't worry. I'm sure The Steve will post something in the nearish future and it'll smell of puppy-scented roses. And hopefully won't insult.
Ah sure, I'm only having a laugh anyway. Begorrah.



Above is the Steve at the helm of his 22ft Bayliner cruiser, which he has unselfishly decided to maintain for the summer.

She's moored just off our pretty little workplace Hyannis Yacht Club, which also doubles as a complimentary tanning salon for 8hrs a day. Oh my.

Happy America Day!!!



Happy America Day!!! What a wonderful day chock-full of nonsensical "patriotism"! I must say we all had a hoot.
God bless the USA, vietnam vets, the marine reserves, marching sousaphone bands, the forest fire department, Bob & Tim: The Patio Pro's, the civil war/pirate invasion re-inactment group, Helen's Flowers, Cool FM, the Barnstable Community Police Cycle Patrol and the Barnstable Middle-High Hip Hop dance group, all of whom partook in a high spirited, under-rehearsed and adequately executed Parade on Main St today. Never before have I felt so proud to rapturously applaud such a mediocre effort. My heart goes out to all you guys.



Barnstable High Hip Hop group.


Star Spangled Banner rendition. ('Tis a grand Old Flag).
Party On.

broom broom

Rightio. I'm just gonna throw up a few more spare pictographs I have lying around. One might begin to notice that the vast majority of the subjects are elderly folk caught unawares. They just can't chase that fast..





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HELPFUL HINTS FOR MOTHERS #1: You can probably click on any pic to enlarge it. (A new window opens, showing just the desired pic. Hover your cursor over the picture for 1 second. The button shown below should appear. Click it. Voila. The original snapshot in all its glory. Italicised words will be explained on a later date.)Yes, that button.

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