Or is it flies all the time?
Summer brings them by the tons. But at least I don't live close to a feed lot.
Speaking of summer, I took this picture of my dash on the way home from work yesterday. Fucking heat is being obnoxious.
The good news is that I have On Star in my truck, and the On Star app on my phone. So while I was in the grocery store checkout line today, I used my telephone to start my truck so it would be all nice and cool by the time I got out to it. Cool truck = no melted ice cream! WOOHOO!
Anyway, how's everyone been?
I've still been slacking with the blog. I think of things, then forget them by the time I get here. I reckon they must not be that important.
Funny story though, Mrs Curmudgeon called me at work today to tell me the dogs had caught a rat in the back yard and had chewed its head off. She even sent me pictures. Well, it looks like a rat or maybe a gerbil, but one way or the other I'm guessing it was some kid's pet that escaped their pen and took a wrong turn. We just don't have rats around here.
By the way, "good doggie" to whoever caught it. And if you let me know which of you t was, there's an extra Milkbone in it for you. :)
Well, I guess that's it for today. TTYL!
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"Obama's An Idiot" is where my political bitches now live. Go ye thereto and read.
Obama's An Idiot Main Page
Showing posts with label Teeth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Teeth. Show all posts
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Photographs And Memories
Well, on with another vacation story, in no particular order...
Saturday was the day we drove to Caleeforneeah. We left L.V. and headed to San Diego around 9:30 in the marnin'. Uneventful, except for of course, the piece of shit map we used. Yes, yes. I'll bitch about it one more time, then you'll not hear any more about it.
We arrived in San Diego around 2:00, roughly mid-town and according to the directions I had, we were supposed to take the Front Street exit. So we're going south on I-5 (yes, same I-5) looking for Front Street, when it begins to look like we're running out of city. We were almost to the border, and there was no Front Street. Turn around, call the motel, ask for directions.
I'll not bore you with details on the cooler ending up dumping a couple gallons of water on the floor, the single bed which wasn't what I had ordered for three people, or the bloody fight, cop cars and ambulance we had to avoid whilst trying to get to the Gaslight District (or Gaslamp Quarter if that's what you prefer) for the evening. Suffice it to say, good gawd people.
Now if you've never been to the Gaslight District, if you're ever in San Diego, you should make it a point to go there. It's basically a half dozen city blocks of nothing but shops, bars and restaurants, with plenty of people wandering around. Not just a tourist trap but a place where the locals also go.
But I will mention Croce's. I've been wanting to give it a try ever since I had heard about it.
Of course, it is of the Jim Croce fame. His wife and son started the place.
I highly recommend the food. I had rack of lamb. Now tell me, doesn't this just look like The Shit here?:

Trust me. It was most yummy. But it wasn't cheap.
Anyway, we spend some time in the Gaslight District looking around and head back to the room.
The next morning, we're headed for breakfast. We're going to another recommended restaurant, driving around for 20 minutes or so looking for a parking spot. We finally find one and pull in. I ask "Does anyone have change for the meter?" You may guess by now that the answer was no. So we had find an overpriced lot.
But we had breakfast and headed to the zoo for the day. That place is awesome.
Everyone should go to the San Diego zoo at least once in their life. Every animal you could possible imagine is in there, from polar bears to yaks.
Very cool, but we were so damned tired at the end of the day, all I wanted to do was park my ass on the sofa and veg.
I did mention on the way from the car to the elevator though, "I could really use a foot massage and a blow job." Mrs Curmudgeon and our friend were cracking up so hard they were both leaning over the handrail in tears, gasping for breath.
They thought I was joking.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Saturday was the day we drove to Caleeforneeah. We left L.V. and headed to San Diego around 9:30 in the marnin'. Uneventful, except for of course, the piece of shit map we used. Yes, yes. I'll bitch about it one more time, then you'll not hear any more about it.
We arrived in San Diego around 2:00, roughly mid-town and according to the directions I had, we were supposed to take the Front Street exit. So we're going south on I-5 (yes, same I-5) looking for Front Street, when it begins to look like we're running out of city. We were almost to the border, and there was no Front Street. Turn around, call the motel, ask for directions.
I'll not bore you with details on the cooler ending up dumping a couple gallons of water on the floor, the single bed which wasn't what I had ordered for three people, or the bloody fight, cop cars and ambulance we had to avoid whilst trying to get to the Gaslight District (or Gaslamp Quarter if that's what you prefer) for the evening. Suffice it to say, good gawd people.
Now if you've never been to the Gaslight District, if you're ever in San Diego, you should make it a point to go there. It's basically a half dozen city blocks of nothing but shops, bars and restaurants, with plenty of people wandering around. Not just a tourist trap but a place where the locals also go.
But I will mention Croce's. I've been wanting to give it a try ever since I had heard about it.
Of course, it is of the Jim Croce fame. His wife and son started the place.
I highly recommend the food. I had rack of lamb. Now tell me, doesn't this just look like The Shit here?:

Trust me. It was most yummy. But it wasn't cheap.
Anyway, we spend some time in the Gaslight District looking around and head back to the room.
The next morning, we're headed for breakfast. We're going to another recommended restaurant, driving around for 20 minutes or so looking for a parking spot. We finally find one and pull in. I ask "Does anyone have change for the meter?" You may guess by now that the answer was no. So we had find an overpriced lot.
But we had breakfast and headed to the zoo for the day. That place is awesome.
Everyone should go to the San Diego zoo at least once in their life. Every animal you could possible imagine is in there, from polar bears to yaks.
Very cool, but we were so damned tired at the end of the day, all I wanted to do was park my ass on the sofa and veg.
I did mention on the way from the car to the elevator though, "I could really use a foot massage and a blow job." Mrs Curmudgeon and our friend were cracking up so hard they were both leaning over the handrail in tears, gasping for breath.
They thought I was joking.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Meticulously catagorized under:
Country music sucks,
Teeth
Monday, April 14, 2008
Happy 100th Harley
Nice line-up:
Oh, wait. He's dead.
How about maybe some 'N Sync? Or maybe rustle up some Spice Girls?
Now I've never owned a Harley, so I guess I can't be 100% certain what sort of music I would listen to if I rode one. But I have been associated with enough bikers to know that a good alcohol fueled, knock down drag out concert ain't going to be one led by a fucking hillbilly, a rapper, and a fag.
Nice anniversary gift, yo.
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[...]Now that is a fucking hoot! They should have maybe tossed in a bit of Pavarotti?
Harley is lauded for its marketing genius and for knowing its customers and how much they like the Steppenwolfs, ZZ Tops and George Thorogoods of the world.
Yet it gave them Tim McGraw, a country singer crooning sweet love songs, and Kid Rock, who nobody heard of until he hooked up with Pamela Anderson. The average Harley rider has saddle bags older than this guy.
And, finally, Elton John as the headliner.
[...]
Oh, wait. He's dead.
How about maybe some 'N Sync? Or maybe rustle up some Spice Girls?
Now I've never owned a Harley, so I guess I can't be 100% certain what sort of music I would listen to if I rode one. But I have been associated with enough bikers to know that a good alcohol fueled, knock down drag out concert ain't going to be one led by a fucking hillbilly, a rapper, and a fag.
Nice anniversary gift, yo.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Meticulously catagorized under:
Geetars,
I got your fatwa hangin',
Teeth
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Quote Of The Day
Jeff G. reading the mind of Rosie:
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“Jesus, am I ever desperate to be taken seriously as a thinker and not just some loudmouthed she-clown in oversized stretch pants.”Jeezus. The man plays the words as Hendrix played the Strat.
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Meticulously catagorized under:
BWAH,
Teeth,
XM Friggin' Rocks
Monday, January 29, 2007
Spam Subject Of The Day
"do teeth"I would prefer you didn't. Sorta rough on the man-parts you know.
~
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