For some reason, yesterday’s post about coffee failed to appear, but I managed to retrieve it and it’s up now.
As a bonus, here’s a funny one which proves that Old Farts not only have sex, they’re unashamed of the fact:
Of course, that is in Wisconsin, where there’s not much else to do other than go to Green Bay Packers games…
Blogging will be scarce, and possibly even of lower quality than normal, as I’m driving to visit a friend in another state. (No flying until I have to, thank you very much.) I’ll try to post while on the road, but I’ll be at the mercy of the Fleabagge Motel’s wi-fi, so if nothing appears, that’s the reason.
In the meantime, enjoy a little eye candy:
It’s the Beretta Model 75 in .22LR, and it’s the gun I learned to shoot handguns with. I’ve been spoiled ever since by the experience.
Oh, you wanted that kind of eye candy? For shame, for shame. Okay, here’s Janine Turner, suitably dressed:
Sorry about the paucity of posts today. There are two reasons:
1. Last night Doc Russia and I were renewing our acquaintance, so to speak, in that he was telling me all about his African safari, showing me videos, pictures and so on.
2. Yes, there was a certain amount of liquor involved, hence my mild hangover and sleep-in this morning.
3. The place was devoid of food, so we had to remedy that by visiting several of the food emporia in the neighborhood.
Normal service will resume tomorrow, with a piece on the difficulty of buying watches.
Folks, please forgive me if posting is a little light this week. The realtor called last Monday (that would be Feb 27 ) to tell me that in order to sell the house and get top dollar, I have to be fully moved out by Mar 14 — that is, leave a house with walls ‘n floors only so that the rehab crew can come in to make the necessary repairs and paint the place so she can list it on Apr 1.
When she said that, I told her I thought it was a pretty elaborate April Fool’s Day trick, whereupon she just repeated, “March 14,” and hung up.
The first of (I think) three 30-yard dumpsters arrives at nine this morning, and I’ve hired a team of young men with strong backs and lots of energy to clear out fourteen years of crap, detritus and junk (yeah, I know it sounds like a German legal firm) in the space of a week.
To add to it, Daughter moves out and into her apartment on Wed 8, so there’ll be her movers moving stuff around my set of movers. Let’s hope this doesn’t turn into some kind of mover-imbroglio like a West Side Story dance routine, because then I’ll just have to throw up.
As for me… well, I’m not actually going to be doing anything other than sitting on a garden chair with a gin & tonic in hand, barking orders and whipping the workers when they start getting tired. I mean, I have to turn this:
Anyway, there should be a post or two each day nevertheless — even if I have to recycle that damn old Pussification thing just to keep the Red Meat Readers in full voice.
Glad to see that the Grouchy Ol’ Cripple is back, after his site was hacked. Was not glad to read that while his site was down, he was considering retiring. We need MORE angry, vituperative old farts blogging, not fewer — hell, if I can return…
As with my old blogs, I won’t be posting much over weekends because
a.) people need to be with their families / doing something productive / sleeping off hangovers, rather than reading my stuff on the Internet; and
b.) I need time for my Pore Ole Brain to recover — it’s been a busy week; and finally,
c.) I have a boatload of work to do in clearing out the assorted garbage of the last fourteen years so that the house does not make prospective buyers run screaming down the street.
Nevertheless, one fresh post each day awaits you over the weekend. See y’all on Monday, when the normal menu of invective, anger, threats to politicians and gun worship will continue.