Moojuice

My friend in Scotland has launched his band and has a running web-blog about the project.

http://www.moojuicerecords.com/loengard/weblog/weblog.html

Go Alasdair!

The Site Says It All

I'm not even going to comment on this one.

Click and enjoy!

http://www.johnkerryisadouchebagbutimvotingforhimanyway.com/

Want some cheese to go with that cracker?

Today is the last day for one of our fine, fearless teachers. After two weeks with these delinquents, he's called in sick...never to return. For the sake of this story, let's call this brave soul Mr. White.

Flash back - August 9th
Mr. White, dressed smartly in a polo and khakis, arrives smiling. He's oh-so-ready to instruct these attentive young saints. Much to his dismay, they aren't all he expected.

Over the course of the next two weeks, Mr. White is called names and pushed around in his classroom.

The culmination? His new nickname - Forrest Gump look alike mother-fucking cracker.

And to think I was upset because one of my dawgs called me nigga!

Casting Call!

Wanted: 25 bright, energetic, smiling, well-groomed, literate, enterprising young men and women to engage in a fun, challenging and intense Literature curriculum.

Got: Anywhere from 22-29 (depending on the day) half-dead, grimacing, mostly-rank, barely cohesive, lazy rogues whose only enterprising endeavor is to come up with excuses as to why they can't have their butts in seats by 8:00AM.

But, as always, there are flowers amongst the weeds.

School's back in session folks. Hang on for some stories!

Hickety-Hell-Yeah!

When did this nation start celebrating redneck culture?

A few weeks ago I saw a KFC advertisement touting the arrival of the Dale Earnhardt collectable fried chicken bucket. I don't know about you, but the last thing I want as a keepsake for my namesake is a greasy cyllindrical object that at one time housed deep-fried food. I don't give a squirrel's behind that it has a picture of a man who drives his car "real-fast" in circles all day long.

As of late, white trash culture is as prevalent as chiggers in dixie grass. What astounds me is the differentiation between white trash and White Trash. As if the capitals "W" and "T" elevate these bogus-bumpkins to Lord and Lady of the trailer park.

In all honesty, quintessential rednecks don't offend my not-so-delicate sensibilities. There have always been those folks who don white, stringy wife-beaters (purchased at Wally-World in lieu of a toothbrush) to hug their pale, sickly flesh. Let them carry their Marlboro reds, Natty-Light beer and Nascar lighter wherever they may roam.

It's these brash young thangs who are buying $5 chai at Starbucks in their oh-so-sexy rolled "cowboy" hats that make me question the future of the United States. Think about it - these people are idolizing the gap-toothed, hillbilly population who slam Pat Robertson bumper stickers on the back of their prehistoric Ford.

Intellectualizing this disturbing trend has made me irritated with the general American public. My advice is to tuck that CK thong back into those JLo jeans, Sweetcheeks. I have no desire to watch your boobs pop from the top of that retro-rhinestone jean jacket.

I also think I need to eat me a nice little snack. Now, where is that recipe for cooter pie?

The Veil Between Worlds

Human beings are self-absorbed. It seems as if our supreme ego-centricity commands us to believe that we are the only beings in this universe. We know the cycle of birth, death and rebirth by watching our seasons. We do not think about the spaces between life and death and death and rebirth.

Yesterday, I contemplated the psuedo-death of the front lawn. About half of the grass is completely dry and yellow; half of it is green and lush. In between the two patches lies a strip that is half alive.

This predicament isn't a quandary. The explanation of why this is so is very cut and dry, much like east section of the grass. Half of the sprinkler system works, the other half doesn't. The sad little blades of grass had every right to decide to forfeit their will to live.

Obviously, people aren't as easy to explain. My great-grandmother, queen of bathtub gin during prohibition and a righteously hysterical lady, is nearly 101 years old. Somehow, she maintains the will to hang on to her life. She rises and shines and remembers old stories better than she remembers yesterday. She hugs and laughs and occasionally makes off-color jokes. She thinks it's great that I found "such a nice boy to take care of me."

Yesterday she awoke at 3AM convinced that the ceiling was caving. She had conversations with her dead brother Roy as he sat on the new couch. She held court as imaginary people came in and out of the house to visit. One guest apparently proclaimed "see you later, Sweetness" every time my mother left the living room for a moment. Roy had to leave halfway through the day, but he said he'd see my great-gram very soon.

In the afternoon, my great-grandmother told my mom to get a bed ready for my brother as he was coming for a visit. Much to everyone's surprise, my brother arrived shortly thereafter.

Everything that comes from the Earth and nature must return. We are born to start dying. Yet, we rise and shine in the morning, buy our $4.00 latte and grumble about traffic on the way to work. Very rarely, we notice the spaces between the events in our lives. We don't take the time.

It is possible that my wonderful great-gram is hallucinating as she begins the process of dying. But, I also think she is getting the time to notice the space between her life and death. I only hope her transition is easy and happy.

Shiny Happy People Holding Hands

My left hand is shiny and he's happy that he doesn't have to worry about my father taking him for a "drive" in the "woods" a la Tony Soprano.

I've gotten the ring and some new insight. I've come to the conclusion that it really isn't all about the bling.

It is truly about something far more amazing than just a perfect, princess cut stone cresting ten smaller princess cut stones set in a white gold band. It is far more intense than the shimmering, sparkling beacon of our hope faith and love. It is nearly indescribable, as it is an experience like none other I've ever had in my life.

And, I now know, that it is all about the registering for wedding gifts.

Drone On

Drone Launched to Detect Illegal Immigrants Officials Hope to Stem Flow From Mexico Into Arizona

Very interesting article. And I always thought of drones as completely incapable of anything worthwhile... much like George Dub-ya.

FORT HUACHUCA, Ariz. (June 25) -- The Border Patrol launched an unmanned drone Friday that uses thermal and night-vision equipment to help agents spot illegal immigrants trying to cross the desert into the United States.

The stepped-up surveillance is part of a mission that officials hope will stem the tide of illegal immigrants that have made Arizona the busiest illegal entry point along the 2,000-mile border with Mexico.

The two drones being used in the project can detect movement from 15 miles up, read a license plate, view a vehicle's occupants, and even detect weapons, officials said.

Roger Maier, a spokesman for U.S. Customs and Border Protection, confirmed that one of the remotely piloted Hermes 450 drones started flying Friday morning. It was unclear when the other one would be used.

The drones weigh almost 1,000 pounds, have a 35-foot wingspan and can fly faster than 100 mph. They will patrol at 12,000 to 15,000 feet. They can stay aloft for 20 hours at a time.
The overall cost of the mission is estimated at least $10 million, with the government spending about $4 million on the drones.

Pilots on the ground will remotely control them unless the flight is preprogrammed, with another agent interpreting the images and using global positioning to send agents to respond to what the drones detect.
The aircraft are a key element of the Department of Homeland Security's efforts to achieve ''operational control'' of the border in Arizona. The drones' mission ends Sept. 30, when it will be assessed to determine the future of drones with the Border Patrol.

Border Patrol agents catch hundreds of thousands of illegal immigrants trying to cross Arizona's sprawling, cactus-covered deserts each year. The agency had recorded more than 330,000 apprehensions since Oct. 1 in the Border Patrol's Tucson sector, which covers most of the Arizona border.

The Hermes 450s, which Israel uses to patrol its frontiers, join a number of unmanned aerial vehicles being used in the United States.

Remote-controlled planes help gather data for environmental studies and patrol Western skies on wildfire watch. In Alaska, the Coast Guard is also testing a drone this summer for fisheries patrols and other uses.

Drones called Predators have also been successful in U.S. military and CIA operations. Missiles fired from Predators have killed al-Qaida operatives in Afghanistan and Yemen.

It's All About the Bling

My mother says I'm afflicted with shiny object syndrome. In stores, at restaurants - basically any public place you can think of - I've always gravitated toward the things that sparkle. I can't help it. Shiny things are cool.

This is why it has been so difficult to answer that question.

Quite simply put, "I have no idea what my ring looks like as I don't have one as of yet."

He's had it for two months. This wonderful, slightly-infuriating man (who has impeccable taste, mind you) has had that shiny object in a box for two entire months and I've yet to track that puppy down.

Kevin wants to ask my father for his blessing in person.

Mind you, my benevolent father has already sent the deposit to the Wigwam for the ceremony and reception. My well-intentioned dad also churned out advice as Kev and I signed away our lives for our first house. It isn't as if Bob doesn't know his little girl is getting married.

And yet, my beloved still insists on keeping that perfect shiny object hidden until the word has been spoken.

So, here I sit, 2000 miles away from Kevin counting the days until he arrives. I send him cards because I miss him. He sends me roses because he loves me. I'm secretly pining for him because I do miss him terribly (don't tell anyone).

And yet, I can't help but wonder what it looks like.

and the living is easy

The options for the house have been picked.

The dress was bought.

And I'm on my way to Vegas with the girls.

I love summer.