Saturday, April 17, 2010

Do you need any more reasons?














Thanks, Tom

Yep, Obama's focusing on the real issues.

The Stanislaus County unemployment rate inched up to 19.2 percent for March. The increase, from an adjusted 19 percent for February, keeps the area's jobless rate at near-record highs.


19.2% unemployment rate in my county? Are you fucking kidding me?
Actually, it's higher than that when you take into consideration the folks that have taken early retirements because they got tired of looking for work that wasn't there, those who's unemployment benefits have run out, and the youngsters that are ready to work for the first time but just can't find a job.
All this while Obama's promising to never use nukes that were never used before he became The Great Leader, while he's pushed into law socialist health care that will raise our taxes even higher and just being a general all around pain in the ass.
Do something worthwhile, asshole.

Monday, April 12, 2010

Co-exist? Why in the world would I want to co-exist with a target?

Camilla Fox grew up surrounded by coyotes, foxes and wolves.
She would go with her father, Michael Fox, to a large, “almost sanctuary-like” research station outside St. Louis where he did research on wild canids.
Now, as part of her group Project Coyote, she works with individuals, government agencies and communities helping them to minimize confrontations between coyotes and humans. She will be in Reno Thursday to deliver a free public presentation called “Coyotes in Our Midst — Learning to Live With America’s Wild ‘Song Dog’.”
“Love them or hate them, coyotes are here to stay,” she said in a phone interview. “We know that because our federal government has been waging war against the species for almost two centuries, and we have more coyotes today than ever before.”
What often happens is that a community will get upset over coyotes and decide to kill them, she said, but this is a failed long-term strategy because, unlike other predators, coyotes are adept at rebounding from population decreases by having larger litters and higher pup survival rates.
“The onus is on us to figure out how best to coexist with the species,” she said.
“Coyote management is largely about people management in urban landscapes, largely about recognizing that when there are negative encounters, intentional and unintentional feeding is often the root cause of such conflicts.”
She cited a long-term study conducted in the Chicago metro area where 181 coyotes were followed with radio collars. Seven became a “nuisance,” meaning they inspired more than one call to animal control or were killed by authorities, and the main cause was finding food courtesy of humans.
“We need to look at what food sources we may be providing to coyotes — intentionally or not — that may be leading to conflicts: compost piles, dog and cat food outside, fallen fruit from fruit trees, even free-roaming cats.”

Thanks Phil, for passing this along

My future second ex wife

Thanks, Tom






Bacon. Mmmm, Bacon.....











Thanks, Nick

Liar Liar Pants On Fire

Air Force One crashed in the middle of rural America. Panic stricken, the local sheriff mobilized his men and descended on the farm in force. When they got there, the disaster was clear. The aircraft was totally destroyed with only a burned hulk left smoldering in a tree line that bordered a farm. The sheriff and his men entered the smoking mess but could find no remains of anyone, including the President.
They spotted a lone farmer plowing a field not too far away as if nothing at all happened. They hurried over to the man's tractor.
"Hank," the sheriff yelled, panting and out of breath, "did you see this terrible accident happen?"
"Yep. Sure did." The farmer mumbled unconcernedly, cutting off his motor.
"Do you realize that is the airplane of the President of the United States?"
"Yep."
"Were there any survivors?"
"Nope. They's all kilt straight out," the farmer answered. "I done buried them all myself. Took me most of the morning."
"President Obama is dead?" the sheriff shouted.
"Well," the farmer grumbled, restarting his tractor, "he kept a-saying he wasn't... but you know what a liar he is."
-Thanks, Tom

Yeah, uh-huh, you bet.

Uncle Ed decided that he didn't want any pain medication after his bypass surgery, that he was going to be super hard-ass about the whole deal.
So now he's all impressed with himself and trying to pat himself on the back for being so tough.
Nobody's told the dumb fuck that the swabs they wipe his mouth with to moisten it are loaded with some serious opiates.
We'll see how tough he is when they quit doing that for him.....

Why?

Why in the fuck is it that no matter which hand I have all my plastic grocery bags in, that's the pocket that my keys are in?
And almost all the time it's not only when I'm trying to get in my truck, but when I'm trying to get in the house.

Sunday, April 11, 2010

That'll fix 'im

I finally figured out that I couldn't support both me and his beer habit so CharlieGoddamit's been sober for a couple of weeks now.
He wasn't happy about me refusing him beer so I figured I'd cure him of it.
At first I thought I could do it the easy way - I'd just tell him no and that would be that.
Yeah, right. He'd just wait until I left the room and then knock over mine and lap it up.
Then I thought aversion was the answer so I bought a six pack of Coors Light (I'd rather suck a dick than drink that shit) and flung it at him in the back yard. He just dodged the cans, then bit them open and drank them.
Then it hit me: I filled a beer can with concentrated lemon juice, told him no then ducked into the dark kitchen. He acted all innocent for a minute, then jumped up, knocked over the can and started lapping it up.
He's been on the wagon ever since.

Give it up!!!

Thanks, Yolo

We can only wish

Thanks again, Woody



Another White Trash Saturday Night

I got a call from Debbie today saying that she has coyotes in her front yard in broad daylight so I loaded up and went out.
I had been checking out the tracks around her and Willie's place and figured that they were pretty much all coming from the southeast, crossing the creek, going across their property and then circling back around on the adjoining property. I found that they were crossing the creek at 2 different fords, both of which were on either side of the goat pen that was probably attracting the fuckers to begin with.
I took the east ford and Pops took the western one and we got ready to bring some serious smoke down on those coyotes. We couldn't see any sense in calling seeing as they were using the property as a major highway, so we hunkered down in the tall grass and waited. And waited. And waited.
Right about dusk, something splashed in the creek directly below me. I couldn't see what it was because of the one big bush that was blocking my view of the bottom, but I could see the ripples. Up comes the shootgun, off came the safety, and...... nothing. I held that shotgun on that bush for so long I thought my arms were gonna fall off, but nothing happened.
About 30 minutes after last light, we met back at the truck and decided to ambush the field in front of the house. The coyotes had to cross the dirt road to get to the field to hunt rodents and the field had been recently cut, so there was a nice contrast. I parked my ass on top of the front tire of the tractor and Pops went over to the other side of the barn and we started waiting again. We could hear the coyotes start to yip and howl off a couple of hundred yards away, but they circled the field, crossed the highway and moved off. That was strange because we had the breeze in our faces so I knew they didn't scent us. No telling why they stayed off the field.
Debbie came out about midnight with a couple of cold beers, so we said fuck it and hung it up for the evening.
As we were leaving the property, my headlights flashed across the highway and caught 3 coyotes trotting across another field.
What a fucking bust.