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A Weasel Worded Question, Part Deux.

For the solution, let me paraphrase this extremely simple math problem for you..."On one end is suspended a weight, and on the other end, a weasel. The system is in equilibrium." Translation: hanging weight = weasel weight.

"The weight of the weasel in pounds is equal to the age of the weasel's mother in years." Translation: hanging weight = weasel weight = mother's age.

"The age of the weasels mother, plus the age of weasel, equals four years." Translation: weasel weight + mother's age = 4 or hanging weight + mother's age = 4.

"The weasel's mother is twice as old as the weasel was, when the weasel's mother was one-half as old as the weasel was, when the weasel's mother was three times as old as the weasel." Translation: "The weasel's mother is ...blah-blah-blah-blah-blah-blah-blah-blah... three times as old as the weasel." (anything times 2, and then times 1/2 is ...itself).

THUS: 3-times-the-weasel's-age + the weasel's age = 4 or 4-times-the-weasel's-age is 4.

THUS: The weasel is one year old. The weasel's mother is 3 years old (4 years - 1 year = 3 years). The weasel AND the hanging weight each weigh 3 pounds (hanging weight = weasel weight = mother's age).

"The weight of the rope, or the weight at the end of the rope, is one-half as much again, as the difference in weight, and the weight plus the weight of the weasel." Translation: "The weight of the rope, or the weight at the end of the rope, blah-blah-blah-blah-blah-blah-blah-blah-blah."

THUS: The weight of the rope = the hanging weight at the end of the rope (3 lbs). The weight of the rope = (48oz). The length of the rope = 48oz / 4oz per foot = 12 feet!

A Weasel Worded Question.

You know, they say every time you masturbate, God kills a kitten. But do you think that's always true?

So here's a question for you, hotshot. A piece of rope weighs 4 ounces per foot, and passes over a pulley.

On one end is suspended a weight, and on the other end, a weasel. The system is in equilibrium. The weight of the weasel in pounds is equal to the age of the weasel's mother in years.

The age of the weasels mother, plus the age of weasel, equals four years. The weasel's mother is twice as old as the weasel was, when the weasel's mother was one-half as old as the weasel was, when the weasel's mother was three times as old as the weasel.

The weight of the rope, or the weight at the end of the rope, is one-half as much again, as the difference in weight, and the weight plus the weight of the weasel.

How long is the rope?

Now That's a Coincidence.

"According to the Wall Street Journal, the trend in bars today are drinks with bits of food in them, like cocktails with bleu cheese, cucumbers, a piece of ham. Alcohol with food in it. Didn't that used tobe called vomit?" -Jay Leno

So the same week that my town is overrun by hippies, I'm experimenting with a colon cleanse. Coincidence? I think not! And I tell you what. The first thing I'm doing when this cleanse finishes is getting an armful of chili cheese burritos.

Warning! Don't go driving through Ambush Alley in Baghdad, lest someone might jack your ride.

So two old Jewish men are strolling down the street one day when they happen to walk by a Catholic church. They see a big sign posted that says, "Covert to Catholicism and get $10." One of the Jewish men stops walking and stares at the sign. His friend turns to him and says, "Murray, what's going on?" "Abe," replies Murray, "I'm thinking of doing it." Abe says, "What are you, crazy?" Murray thinks for a minute and says, "Abe, I'm going to do it." With that, Murray strides purposefully into the church and comes out twenty minutes later with his head bowed. "So," asks Abe, "did you get your ten dollars?" Murray looks up at him and says, "Jesus, is that all you fucking people ever think of?"

i may be bald but sy sperling? he's not my president!

It's The New Math.

So this was a rather full and eventful trip, if I may say so myself. I mean the flight down was fine, but there was none of this lounging around the pool thing, like last time. No this time was filled with errands, and getting things done, and important business meetings.

I did however have a refresher course in basic math while I was down for the crawfish boil. I learned that this + this = this. And for those of you wondering, that water is brown because of the spices, not because of my socks.

Math lesson number two was actually learned by someone else at the party not me. He learned that this + this = this. It should also be noted that about five minutes after that last picture, and I wouldn't want to embarass Tom by saying his name, blew chunks. Big chunks. All over the counter top, the wall, and the sink. You should also know that if the woman of the house were to find someone had deposited the contents of their stomach in her kitchen, her reaction would have been, well, animated to say the least. Not animated like, "You better clean that up." Or not animated like, "The party is over everyone go home." I mean animated like, "I fucking hate you all and hope you all fucking die now get the fuck out of Florida!" So while Sir Jimbeau distracted her, I had to clean up Tom's vomit personally. And yes, I had to use my fingers to fish the chunks out of the sink drain. Yummy.

But aside from that it was a great party and nobody got hurt except Mr Crawfish. And it was Jimbeau, who had the last laugh on he who defiled the house. Tom later reported only two honks on his drive home the following morning.

Oh, and as of yesterday, I have hereby started my colon cleanse. Which may be redundant following the four hellacious bowel movements I had the day after the crawfish boil, but I'm a trooper. A dedicated page with more pics to follow as things, ahem, progress. But for now... the package - the contents - the checklist!

Back From (Rainy) Florida.

And an update is forthcoming and sheyat, so stay mothafuckin tuned...

tasteless toejam and toenails from the fake nike running shoes

Fun, Fun, Fun. Sun, Sun, Sun.

Well this shitty New England weather is starting to wear on me. So perhaps it's time for me to duck down and see Sir Jimbeau again, and enjoy some shitty Florida weather instead?

So alas, this fat fucker will be making an airplane fly all sideways for a few hours tomorrow, and by Friday night I'll be poolside and sipping margaritas in Ft Myers. And meanwhile, back at the batcave, my gaspig will be undergoing a nice Skyjacker 3" suspension lift. It's something I've been meaning to do for the past eight years now, so I finally figured what the fuck. Not to mention, it's starting to take bumps with all the grace and elegence of a runaway piano as of late. By the time I get back, you won't recognize either of us.

And this Sunday? I got two words for you: Crawdaddy. Boil. Yeah this'll be a treat, I'm fucking sure. I'll be sure to enjoy eating the little fuckers I used to keep as pets when I was in the second grade.

And when I return from my weekend of beer and steaks and critters and debauchery, I have a special treat for you all! I spoke with Shalom from Blessed Herbs and guess what? In the interest of prosperity, I'm going to do a colon cleanse! Yeah baby! A sparkling clean hole for you all to enjoy, woo hoo! I'm not quite sure what this mucoid plaque stuff is, but I know I want one. Finally, a use for my digital camera...

So stay tuned and enjoy the weekend, motherfuckers!

Okay, Who Wants The Lead Role?

[Standing erect arms stretched out to either side. Begin voice-over narration:] It's late Friday afternoon on Golgotha and the crowds have melted away. There's nobody left at the base of the cross but this little kid. He fixes his gaze on Jesus for a while and finally speaks up "That looks pretty uncomfortable."

[Head nods agonized assent.] "Is there some way I can help you?"

[Head nods in direction of left hand. Speak in croaking voice:] "The hands... The nails... Hurt...".

[Continue voice-over narration:] The kid thinks about this for a while and then goes off leaving Jesus by himself. A short time later he returns with a ladder and a huge pair of pliers. He sets the ladder against the right side of the cross-beam and climbs up. He grasps the nail in Jesus's left hand with the pliers and tugs at it hard until he pulls it free.

[Drop left arm to the side and display look of relief on face:] "Ahh..."

[Nod towards the right hand. Speak in croaking voice:] "Now... The other one..."

[Continue voice-over narration:] The kid climbs down the ladder, picks it up, carries it over, and sets it against the left side of the cross-beam. He climbs up, grasps the nail in Jesus's right hand with the pliers, and tugs at it hard until he pulls it free.

[Anguished scream as you pitch forward arms flailing: "The feet! The feet!"

Fine.

more iraq video fun: insurgents get the hammer from an f-16! oh dude!

I Pissed Myself Today

No shit. Friday night, went to sleep stone sober. I had a dream where I was some kind of a doctor. I wasn't in a hospital, but soehow a less structured atmosphere. It was after some kind of an event where there were a lot of wounded. I don't remember if it was a war or an attack or what. Anyway, my boss, a senior doctor guy, told me my next patient was waiting for me. But I told him no, I had to go piss first. And he's like, "No this girl is very impatient and she wants to be taken care of right now." So I went in and worked on her for a little bit but then excused myself, walked to the other side of the building to a bathroom.

And it was there that I had the most amazing piss of my life. I mean it was a piss where when you're done your pants fit better. And just when you think you're done, you shift your weight a little and are rewarded with another nice flood of relief. I remember it felt great.

So in my dream, I went in to wash my hands and was interrupted by my boss again, who was busting my balls to go take care of my patient. I told him to fuck off, as I was washing my hands.

Then I woke up. It was about 7:00am this morning, and I was in bed. And realized, well, I had pissed myself. So I got up early this morning, stripped my bed, threw my now wet sheets and mattress cover in the laundry, took a shower and laughed my ass off. All the while my dog was looking at me, "Now you better smack yourself in the face with a newspaper, motherfucker."

So how was your weekend? Ha!

No Wonder You people Shoot.

Hmmm, these pics came in as a deer vs car, but aside from what I think is a stomach, I can't find much evidence of a deer. It looks more like the car was attacked by The Swamp Thing. Exit deer's stomach contents, stage right.

So what the fuck is with the post office? Yesterday morning I show up to pick up a package and there's eight people in line and only one counter open. Don't get me wrong there were more postal workers, standing right behind their, "sorry this lane closed" signs. I got pissed and walked out after sitting in line for ten minutes and only moving forward one spot. What the fuck happened to our work ethic?

This morning I show up at the same place, same time. Then I get my package and run back to my truck, giddy like a kid on Christmas Eve. Open it up, expecting to find my Bad Santa photo autographed by Billy Bob Thorton. And when I look closely, I can see the autograph isn't pen, but printer ink. What the fuck? I get to work and check the auction... did Ernie read the fine print? Noooooooo. Because if I had, I'd have read, "First I would like to thank you for taking the time to look at my auctions. This is a wonderful copy from an orginal hand-signed autograph."

And I had a lot of trouble with my mouse recently. Thus completing my trifecta of loserness.

NEWSFLASH! Senator Hillary Clinton's flight out of Washington DC developed engine trouble and had to make an emergency landing. FOrtunately no one was injured. Here's a picture of the crash scene.

Well That Didn't Take Long!

As of 7:00am yesterday morning (Afghanistan time, so really close to midnight the day before on our time) The Marines and sailors of the 3/6th were up to over $6500 -- which will cover the costs of all their equipment plus a few months of satellite service.

You know that that means, boobies for everyone, woo hoo!

But seriously. My sincere thanks to everyone, love me or hate me, who donated. Phil's promised me some cool surgery photos of amputations and such, and I'll be posting them shortly for everyone to enjoy(?)!

Happy Independence Day!

We as Americans know our nation's greatest threat lies in Afghanistan. And we all know whom I speak of. The Afghani theatre has received much less attention in recent months, due to the other adventures of our military, but I'd like to remind us all that that's where the black heart of the 9/11 attacks still pumps its poisoned blood.

There are many people there -- many Americans -- who depite having less media coverage, less glory, and more work, continue each day to fight to protect us.

And they do this not only by killing bad guys, they do this by helping the Afghani people. (And for those of you awestruck that those words would ever cross my lips, yeah me too). We have Navy Corpsman and Marines promoting better relations by providing medical support to the Afghani people... anything from "oops I stepped on a landmine" to "my neighbor shot me in the eye with a fucking bazooka".

My point being, let's not forget about them, too.

The Marines (and sailors) of the 3rd Batallion, 6th Marines got an idea. They find the internet access the government provides them inadequate. And hey, who the fuck can blame em, you've got hundreds of people surrounding a handful of computers each with bullshit bandwidth. Their idea was to buy some equipment and secure satellite based internet access for their soldiers. Yes, uncencored, unmonitored, sweet bandwidth.

To us, as we relax in our easy chairs sipping an iced coffee and surfing on our cable modems, this might seem trivial. But to them, it will allow them to send pictures and videos of loves ones, to download music, and perhaps feel a little close to home. So this equipment will boose morale tremendously and will serve them during their stay in Afghanistan and on their ensuing deployment to Iraq slated for later in 2005.

I have spoken with their front man, Lt. Phil Geiger and explained to him that the army of EHOWA would solve all their problems. Fuck, if we can raise $58k around Christmas, we can raise $5k in the off season, right? And so yes, those of you counting can put your check mark in the #1 box for the number of times I throw myself at your mercy and humbly beg you for your help this year.

So in between your beers and hot dogs and volleyball games please visit their site, and donate to the 3rd Batallion 6th Marines Satellite Fund. And before you know it, someone who's a world away from their family, making sure you and yours are safe, can have a little entertainment besides just daydreaming about beers and hot dogs and volleyball games. We each browse the internet every day and fulfill certains needs: companionship, power trips, humor, affection, information, whatever. I only ask that you to help these Marines get a little slice of the same sense of freedom they provide for us.

And to our fighting forces everywhere, I know you are the reason I and those I love can enjoy this holiday, free of worry and fear. So, thank you.

http://www.36dish.com

Sorority Girls Gone Wild.

Schools out, summer's here and the clothes are coming off!

Here's a collection of naughty videos and photos of hot sorority girls -- totally free! Just an email address gets you in. Showercams, photos, videos...FUN FUN! Check it out now!

And The Rockets Red Glare.

The Fourth is almost here and you know me, always open for some nice fireworks in celebration of our freedom and shit.

So anyway, I was sitting in my car today, and it was sunny outside and I had the radio blastin, and "Kung Fu Fighting" came on. So I thought, hey, maybe I'll learn Kung Fu so I kick people's asses.

More fireworks, only this time in Afghanistan. Yes, I know itt's an older video, but I've only recently gotten it down to a manageable file size. Also for you folks having trouble playing videos, there's some help on the player window, too.