Island Of Misfits

This site may earn a commission from merchant affiliate links, including eBay, Amazon, and others.
Morning Misfits. The trimming starts again today. Gonna be assholes and elbows here for the next few days.

Major storm moving in in a day or so. Calling from anywhere one to two feet of the white stuff. That's gonna slow things down around here for a day or two. Will make sure we have everything we need to ride the storm out.

Somehow need to find time for a walk....so I better get busy.
 
My Dad was in the service when I was a little kid so I barely knew him then when I was 13 my parents divorced and my Dad passed away when I was 15. I started smoking weed when I was 11 though so I can't blame any of that for starting toking. I started because I tried it and fell in love with Mary Jane. I still love her 55 years later.
 
@ Hopper.


"Last week, Multnomah County District Attorney Mike Schmidt warned of the "potential criminal activity." He even went as far as to say he would prosecute those engaging in destruction or violence."

Lets see if he actually does anything or just a bunch of hot air.....
 
OMG,,he actually warned somebody.😂😂😂😂😂😂

Lets see if he actually does anything or just a bunch of hot air.....

A stern warning for sure, but presented nicely so as to not offend or hurt feelings..............

40F @ 90% RH, partially cloudy, and predicted to reach 56F.

I finally got scheduled for my first Covid shot this coming Sunday. My 72 year old child bride and best friend still awaits an appointment, but the good news is that our convicts and homeless have been taken care of before us, so as to be humane.

I drove the two copper ground stakes for our all home surge suppressor and masterfully performed honey do's, as well as worked on an article.

I have a dental cleaning appointment this morning at 8:00AM, but an open calendar the rest of the day.
 
Means he got his azz kicked 2xs for ever lil thing he did
When you became a man, did you have to fight them both to prove your manhood comes a time in all lads youth , the big Dad fight.
I remember.........

Absolutely not, bro. If I can find it, a long time ago I wrote an article for a magazine about Daddies. Be back in a while.

OK, I now arrive in my brand-new "awhile". Found the old article:

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Arcane Things My Daddy Taught Me

© Walt C. Snedeker

Daddies are magical. And here is one of the little measurements of life: If you still refer to him as your Daddy in your adultery, then he gets the prize.

Now, don't get me wrong; if he's "Pop", "Father", "Dad", or the like, there's no problem, there's nothing wrong. It's just that the magic isn't there anymore. Remember: It used to be "Daddy", right?

In order for a Daddy to be magical, he must have a few special characteristics. He must know the answer to every question you could ever think of. And he must be able to show you and tell you and make things for you that nobody else in the world knows anything about.

Like spool tanks. One snowy day, when there was no way to go outdoors, Daddy built a spool tank for me. I was just a tweeny kid, bored silly. It, and its cousins fascinated me for hours.

A spool tank requires a spool from Mom's sewing kit (in our house, the spool had to be empty), a thumbtack, kitchen match, and a slice of an old candle with the wick bored out.

Oh, and a rubber band. You pushed the rubber band through the hole in the spool, slid a busted piece of kitchen match through the end loop of the rubber band, and used the thumbtack like a doorstop to make it so the kitchen match wouldn't spin.

Then, on the other end of the spool, you worked the rubber band through the disk of candle. As soon as you slipped the cannon (some people might call it the ink tube from a ballpoint pen) through the end loop sticking through the candle disk, you were ready to wind 'er up!

About twenty or thirty turns later, you placed the spool tank on the floor, and it would slowly trundle across the room, scaring the bejeebers out of the cat. Every now and then the cannon would tilt, simulating firing. Magical.

None of the other kids in the neighborhood had a spool tank until I showed them how to make one.

Daddy didn't stop there by any means. I would be walking along in the woods with him, idly watching him with his pocketknife and a small piece of wild cherry branch, and he suddenly would hand me a slip-whistle made from that branch.

Here's how he did it: It seems that wild cherry bark can be removed intact from its branch. So he'd loosen it, but before he removed it, he'd cut a "window" that resembled the shape of a steamboat whistle in the bark.

Then he'd take the tube of bark off, put it in his shirt pocket, and cut away some wood.

When he slipped the tube back on and handed it to me, my magical Daddy would have produced a multi-toned whistle from nowhere!

He made pinwheel boomerangs from the yardsticks that hardware stores used to give away. Daddy would cut the yardstick at exactly the 18-inch line, and drill a small hole in the middle of the two remaining pieces. Then, holding the pieces tightly together, he'd use his grinder as a power-sander, and bevel one edge of each.

A small 5” long screw-and-nut combination through the holes, and the X-shaped boomerang would be ready for me to fling. It would come back and you could grab it out of the air by the screw “handle”. Magical.

Daddy taught me how to make whip-darts, slingshots, and ceiling walkers (talk about scaring the cat -- ceiling walkers made him disintegrate).

And he taught me how to catch a squirrel with just a boy's penknife. And how to "tickle" trout. (It was a monumental day when I caught a trout with my bare fingers while a guy with a jillion dollars worth of gear stood there watching -- and troutless!)

Needless to say, these and a bunch more things like them were passed on to my boys.

And, yes... although they are grown and gone, they still call me "Daddy".
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
I'll have what @bigsur51 is having with his coffee LOL

kahlua or Irish cream...just the way I like my wimmin‘ , full of alcohol


82F845C5-1FFF-4248-9F84-633CD60E7F43.jpeg
BF0375E1-DFA0-4B67-A034-6D6B3EB17C92.jpeg
 
I'll have what @bigsur51 is having with his coffee LOL

Over easy............

we are what , 185 miles east of ya all and we are hardly getting anything been honing my panning skills with some paydirt

Nice nuggets! All I've ever scored panning around here was dust.

39F @ 79% RH, gaugus sunshiny day, and predicted to reach 60F

Well s**t, Wednesday sucked! One of my implants is getting sore and loose so off to see the periodontists. On the way to see the dentists for my tri annual cleaning, I drove through a radar trap and got flashed. I await the $225 ticket by mail with bait on my breath. My last one was in 2004.
 
GW, I remember an article I read years ago where a guy got nailed with one of those traps. He received a pic of the rear of his car with license plate included superimposed with the speed and a ticket for $100. He sent them back a pic of a hundred dollar bill. They must have though it was funny, because they sent him a picture of a pair of handcuffs.
 
Morning, back is better every day. The chiropractor actually helped!! The only problem is th guy wanted to put me on the lifetime treatment program......not! I am done untill I start having problems which I hope to avoid.

Lifetime treatment programs, a chiropractors dream!!

GW, I remember an article I read years ago where a guy got nailed with one of those traps. He received a pic of the rear of his car with license plate included superimposed with the speed and a ticket for $100. He sent them back a pic of a hundred dollar bill. They must have though it was funny, because they sent him a picture of a pair of handcuffs.

They also have to prove it was me driving it, but alas I don't wear my mask while driving. Looks like I will probably need a picture of a $225 bill.

37F @ 81% RH, double gorgeous sunshiny day, and predicted to reach 61F.

More destructive demonstrations here, this one protesting police violence. Time to have a massive demonstration against destructive demonstrations and hang a few perps by their gonads in the public square and publicly beat them with a dead rabbit!!
 
They also have to prove it was me driving it, but alas I don't wear my mask while driving.

(*snork*) Here's a vaguely similar story that happened to me:

When I applied for a new license plate, I received a note attached that my car had been ticketed in Daytona on such-and-such a date, and I would not be able to get the plate until I paid the fine (which was now doubled).

I enjoyed using a very good deal of creative profanity -- fartbubble, and: "You people are acting like SuperStupidman from a mentally retarded future!" And so on. For two typed pages.

I included a photograph of myself sitting in my electric wheelchair (too many broken parts for a "normal" one).

And dared the any used-arsewipe up there to hold up my license plate, and I would become quite annoyed.

Return mail: My plate. Alas, no notes attached. :angiesfavorite: 🙃

LATE EDIT ADD: While I spent TWO Christmases in an electric wheelchair (there was a "break" in-between) I have recovered sorta like an old honey badger.
 

Latest posts

Back
Top