Mar 312015
 
Birthday, Cake with candles

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Hello everyone. Well, why you are waiting for the next installment from the coots, it has come to my attention that Monday has been gathering cobwebs around here. I guess it is either up to me to change that or delegate it to someone else.

As for today, Facebook has informed me that this is the day that Bob was dug out from under a rock somewhere in the back country and mercilessly prodded into a lifetime of Cantankerosity.

Finally, a thing that Facebook is actually good for. At any rate we here at the Coots, well at least me and I would assume Ralph but his cantankerous button has been turned up to high lately, would like to wish our colleague Bob a Happy Birthday.

I will have to come up with some fancy song like in one of those restaurants who can’t bring themselves to go traditional because of pending charges from Michael Jackson. Wait, Michael is dead, who got all of the Beatles songs and Happy Birthday rights?

Well, happy birthday Bob, I don’t expect tomorrows live broadcast to be too cantankerous, it was just your Birthday after all. But then again, last week all of his plumbing in the yurt tried to go to hell on him.

There is no telling with Bob.

Happy Birthday Brother,
-Justin

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Justin

Justin is the young Coot with a Cantankerous Soul who continues to be educated by older, more cootish Ralph and Bob. His Cantankerosity is his own.

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Feb 232015
 
Original cast of the show (1994-1995)

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Thanks to some stupid decisions earlier in my life, I’ve been dealing with some chronic medical issues for the last few years, but I never imagined they would land me in OB/Gyn, but that’s where I am now, and I’m not a visitor!

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Landing in this bed about 9PM Friday was just the end to a weird day, so it’s only fitting that the day culminates with a 6’ 1” red-blooded American male winds up in a room with a bed with attachment points for stirrups.

I started the day with my doctor trying to get me a bed in the hospital at 8AM (carried over from attempts from the previous day). At 1PM the doctor’s office called me and said the admissions office had told them to have me go to the ER and wait in the ER until there was a bed available, not a thrilling prospect.

First there is the matter of wailing kids. I understand this…kids that don’t feel good and aren’t old enough to understand why tend to wail a lot…but that doesn’t mean I tolerate it well, especially when I’m feeling crappy myself.

Then there is the matter of the restroom (Why do they call it that? I don’t go in there to rest, do you?). Yes, it was clean…and the air conditioning was in superb working order. I have seen meat lockers that were warmer. While sitting in the waiting room for 6 hours, I had to pee piss urinate several times, and each time I went in the bathroom the cold would make everything “draw up” (yes, EVERYTHING, even that) and my muscles tighten so I could barely dribble.

I’m just glad I didn’t have to crap. I think my ass would have frozen to the toilet seat.

And then there was dealing with the tornado warning.

We were having some nasty weather and I was watching the “we interrupt regular programming for this bulletin” report on TV. It showed a tornado WATCH, not warning, in a county 60 miles west of us, and the system was “showing signs of rotation”, no an actual tornado or hook signal, and was headed in a generally ENE direction.

Now, don’t get me wrong…I love my neighbors. Really I do. I live exactly where I want among the people I want, but…they can be drama queens. By the time a story of Aunt Mae’s bad cold gets passed through 4-5 people, Aunt Mae is in downtown Atlanta, at “Big Piedmont” (as opposed to our local affiliate Piedmont Mountainside Hospital), in ICU, on life support, 10 minutes from death with quadruple pneumonia.

It’s a quiet, idyllic life up here, and some translate that to “boring” and need to spice things up, OK?

Anyway, in a waiting room with 25 adults in it, 24 of them (all but me) with cell phones, all of a sudden everybody was calling everyone they knew telling them a tornado was on the ground, 30 seconds from wherever they were, with winds of 942 MPH, and headed right for them!!!

The mamas were making more racket than their sick kids.

Hospital personnel, good little sheep that they were, herded everyone into rooms away from windows so there would be no flying glass cuts to sew up…just in case. It didn’t matter than one glance at the radar on TV plainly showed the storm was going to miss us by 10 miles or so…gotta follow policy, ya know.

That was how I came to be locked in a small x-ray room with 23 other people for 45 minutes. The one good thing was that the lead shielding in the room cut off cell service so everyone had to hush up. Mostly. One woman apparently thought she could overcome the lead walls by talking loud. REAL loud.

 

It didn’t work.

Ooops! Gotta go! The nurse that checked me in tried to protect me. He put a “No baby on board!” sign on my room door when he was setling me in, but warned that since I was on OB/Gyn ya never knew what might happen. My new shift nurse is coming now. I gotta make sure she isn’t carrying stirrups and a set of forceps. If she is, I promise I won’t go down without a fight!

 

 

Bob@HayleStorm Interactive

Bob comes to us with a skeptical attitude and a full cup of Cantankerousness. He also writes about homesteading and yurts over at JuicyMaters.com and rants about politics at Common-Sense-Conversation.com Most of the time, though, you'll find him at HayleStorm.net, cranking out great websites for clients OR writing tutorials teaching them to build their own sites.

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Feb 232015
 

Hey folks.  I was sitting here thinking about the CFBTN and looking at some stats.  I don’t know if it is being valued.  No comments, not much readership, I would like some real feedback at the end of this post or I may just shelve it for a while.  Ralph is still going strong with the Coots News Service on Sundays and maybe 2 news days are just too much.  Besides, most of the news lately is funny anyway.

Mao Sugiyama Cooks, Serves Own….

You know what, there are things I am not going to put on here.  Now where is that link to the see through swimsuit…..

Dumb women more attractive – study

Now here is some nice solid scientific evidence of the No Duh!  Ok I like smart women but smart women, like my wife, are not being sought out by the magazines.  Let’s face it, in America we like our eye candy dumb so we can appreciate the smart ones in our homes.

"'A man may be down but he's never out!' ...

"'A man may be down but he's never out!' Home Service Fund Campaign. Salvation Army. May 19 — 26 1919." Salvation Army poster. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Rigged device explodes at Salvation Army; 2 hurt

There are two ways to go with this.  First, a training accident at the Salvation Army!  Maybe they should get some real Army guys in there to train them.  Second, who the hell benefits from blowing up the Salvation Army???  A charitable organization that fixes up things for the underprivileged and helps all over the world.  Lets kill some of them huh?  Yea, sounds like a good idea.

 

Bear falls safely from tree after police tranquilized it (PHOTO)

While the title says it all, you have to see the picture.  It is priceless.

 

Prison Food or School Food?

I had a hard time with this one….it all looks so….so….well…..you have to decide.

 

Now folks here is the poll, answer and be helpful.

This poll isn't going to end until I get some input!

Is the CFBTN flailing like a drowning rat and should it be put down?

View Results

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Have a great Memorial Day Weekend.

-Justin

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Justin

Justin is the young Coot with a Cantankerous Soul who continues to be educated by older, more cootish Ralph and Bob. His Cantankerosity is his own.

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Feb 232015
 
A General Motors LS3 Engine in a 2008 Corvette.

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Are you getting a bit older? I know that Ol Ralph is up there approaching triple digits, and I think Justin is down there in the thirties or so, and I’m kind of stuck here in the middle in my mid fifties, and I think most of our readers are up there in the “second childhood” area. Some are probably like me, just never bothering to grow up. Others are likely like Ralph, suffering from old-timers disease.

Regardless of how you find yourself getting to your second childhood, you are probably ready for a grownup toy.

Boy, has Cadillac got your number. It’s a stupid toy, but it definitely falls into the bracket of “big boys’ toys” while giving mama something (stupid) to play with as well.

Cadillac decided to crossbreed station wagons and Corvettes. Now, right there ya gotta get the idea just how stupid the idea of this car is. I don’t care if the station wagon and the corvette get married or not, the result is still going to be a bastard.

You would think General Motors would learn. The corvette itself is a bastard child of an ill conceived crossbreed. Chevrolet got the idea that they could cross the sportiness of a true sports car with the luxury that soft-assed Americans were used to …and the Corvette was born. It was too heavy and lumbering to be a sports car, and too small and tight fitting to be a luxury car. The fact that it’s been so popular for 50 years is a tribute to American Advertising, the gullibility of the American buyer, or both.

Well, apparently General Motors is counting on American stupidity and good advertising to come through for them again.

The new car is a station wagon (Doh!) With a 500 plus horsepower Corvette engine. It will accelerate from zero to 60 miles per hour in 4 seconds, and has a top speed of (Holy speeding ticket, Batman!)…are you ready for this?… 190 miles per hour. In a Cadillac. Station wagon. Probably with a “Baby on Board” window dangly thing in the back window. And junior strapped to his car seat.

The price tag is north of $70,000.

Why do I give a rats ass, and why should you? Because we, you and I, now own General Motors, and I don’t think Madison Avenue is going to get as lucky this time.

Oh well, at least it will be good for the hot mamas that wind up with one. Maybe their snotty brats will quit complaining about being picked up from school in a station wagon.

 

Bob@HayleStorm Interactive

Bob comes to us with a skeptical attitude and a full cup of Cantankerousness. He also writes about homesteading and yurts over at JuicyMaters.com and rants about politics at Common-Sense-Conversation.com Most of the time, though, you'll find him at HayleStorm.net, cranking out great websites for clients OR writing tutorials teaching them to build their own sites.

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Feb 232015
 
Panther, a cat using toilet, photographed in S...

Image via Wikipedia

 

Most of the time, when you think of an oil stain, you think ugly, dirty, slimy…something to be cleaned up as soon as possible.

Change perspective and that opinion can change as well. I have a brand new oil stain in my house, and I like it!

It’s rather large too. And I did it on purpose.

Now, y’all already had been wondering how I was allowed to walk around free in society rather than being locked away in an institution like the crazy uncle nobody in your family talks about, and this will probably confirm it.

“Did you hear about Bob? He dumped a bunch of oil on the floor in his yurt…and brags about it! He claims the stain is almost exactly half of a 30 foot diameter circle!

“He’s not planning to clean it up, either…not even scattering some Oil Dry.”

BTW…a note about oil dry. If y’all have a cat (God only knows why folks want cats, but some do. I’ll bet Ralph is weird that way…among others.) you can save some money on cat maintenance by bypassing that expensive kitty litter at the store. Just go buy a 50 lb. bag of oil dry at the local auto parts store. Most (90%) kitty litters are exactly the same thing, just with perfume added.

Seriously. Almost all of the kaolin (clay) in the country is mined and packaged within 200 miles of me, and I’ve been in the plants. They run bags down the line bagging the dried, flaked clay and labeling it oil dry. When they are done, they change bags and turn on a perfume injector. They then run more clay, with a penny or two’s worth of perfume sprayed on it, use a kitty litter label instead of oil dry, and charge you 5-6 times as much.

And you pay it.

And you think I’M nuts…

But anyway…back to the oil stain discussion…

Remember? This is a story about oil stains

(Shades of “Alice’s Restaurant”, all 18 minutes and 36 seconds of it. Want to hear it…and other weird songs like “The Streak”, and “I Am My Own Grandpa”? Go over to JuicyMaters and play the music player in the sidebar. This week’s genre is “oddities”. Better hurry…next week will probably be ether gospel or bluegrass).

Anyway, yes, I have a large new oil stain covering half my house, and I’m glad of it. It all depends on perspective.

If it helps you understand any better how I can actually LIKE an oil stain, it might help you to know the brand of oil It consists of.

Minwax.

 

Bob@HayleStorm Interactive

Bob comes to us with a skeptical attitude and a full cup of Cantankerousness. He also writes about homesteading and yurts over at JuicyMaters.com and rants about politics at Common-Sense-Conversation.com Most of the time, though, you'll find him at HayleStorm.net, cranking out great websites for clients OR writing tutorials teaching them to build their own sites.

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