Chainsaws at a great height...

Bad idea. Nuff said.

When my wounds heal, I'm going back to the low(er) tech method of tree killing. (albiet, a loose cap and some spilled gasoline from altitude gave me an idea).

Saw. The long orange thingy with the saw on the end. Tree's goin' down. So's part of the deck, but collateral damage has its acceptance in times of war.

I figure it best to wait and do the deed when nobody else is home. No sense in startling someone's reverie with the reverberation(s) of 4700 lbs of wet oak hitting:
1. the ground
2. the deck
3. me
4. all of the above
besides, it'd be rude to add to the body count so late in the season.

I also don't think I could handle one more person telling me to: "be careful, yawwp, tree killin's danger'us. Yawwp".
Dangerous? I'm sprung 40 feet in the air, lasso'd to an already cracked branch by an 1/8 inch of made in China cord, holding a 17ft orange pike, with a bladed hook AND a serrated saw on the end, whilst partially holstered from the right hip, secured none too firmly with a length of the same cord, is MuCulloch's 5hp 30cc 22in 'TimberLand Edition' Chainsaw, running at idle, noxious fumes wafting in my head, causing my already suspect sense of balance to be 'tempered' by hydrocarbon narcosis....when I see a squirrel running towards me from the outer length of the branch. I know even in my drug/monoxided mind that a squirrel is just another RODENT, brother (sans beadiness) of the fucking RAT, so I get an incredibly stupid idea. I am afterall, strapped in at altitude in his territory, with a running, fully fueled chainsaw on my hip.
What could possibly be dangerous?
Yeah Billie Rae, I'll be careful.
"Yawwwp"
For all the drama, at least Jill had the common sense to survey the scene and decide to go shopping.

America, fuck yeah! Comin' again to save the motherfucking day, yeah! / America, fuck yeah! Freedom is the only way, yeah! /

Songs that I like

I miss you more than Michael Bay missed the mark, When he made Pearl Harbor. / I miss you more than that movie missed the point, And that's an awful lot, girl. / And now, now you've gone away, And all I'm trying to say, is: Pearl Harbor sucked and I miss you. / I need you like Ben Affleck needs acting school, He was terrible in that film. / I need you like Cuba Gooding needed a bigger part, He's way better than Ben Affleck. / And now, all I can think about is your smile, and that shitty movie, too! Pearl Harbor sucked and I miss you. / Why does Michael Bay get to keep on making movies? / I guess Pearl Harbor sucked, just a little bit more than I miss you.

Gary, you didn't kill your brother. Those gorillas did.

Raton, de Muerte'

Fucking rats. The Shimmering Buddah came to me in a dream last week. It was a dream with advice on ridding your house of rats.
As dreams go, this one grows hazier as the days go by. I do remember the tunnels.
The tunnels I must dig under the house. The tunnels where I am to stuff the 37lbs of C4 plastique' explosif'. The tunnels where I am to bury the 10 5gal Jerry cans of gasoline. The tunnels where I am to bury 40 cans of lighter fluid, 10 boxes of strike anywhere matches, and 15 lbs of dry powdered gelatin, (Jell-O brand, Lime).
There was more, I'm sure.

Mother Nature wants a piece of me

Actually, a lot of pieces. I got a chance to play Paul Bunyan this weekend. Tree branch needs to come off. Simple. Logic dictates to have someone versed in the culling of flora to be contacted. Simple.
At issue is a rather large oak tree hanging over the deck of my house. After consulting Tanniers Guide on the internet, I'd guestimate about 4700 lbs of oak tree. Thats just the part overhanging the deck.
It's not a new thing. It's been mocking me for some years now. When the wind blows, it sways, but hasn't broken. Not that part anyhow. The other half (not overhanging the deck) mocked me good last winter. With a splendid crack, it broke off. As if to say....I've more where that came from. Problem is, it does. It hangs menacingly over the BBQ Emporium. If its not going to overtly crash down and squash me, it's going to litter the deck with as many leaves, moss, and sticks as it can. It's a dirty tree. A damned dirty tree.
Billie Rae and Nadine aren't any help either. God forbid it might cost money to have it removed. Instead I'm treated on a yearly basis of a chapter of an ongoing drama. (cue banjo music)....Cletus (Billie Rae) walks over and scratches a grizzled chin. There is a singular look of consternation on his face. (Northwoods Maine accent, think Pepperidge Farms....) Yawwp...dat treeees a gotta come out.......yawwwp. Dangerous havin' dem things about....yawwp.
Okay, thanks Billie Rae, see ya next year !!!
Yawwp.
Faced with a growing danger and the simple inability to not get filthy, I drew up a plan. I did what any MAN with a large amount of testoic fortitude would do. I went out and spent a buttload of money. It's the 'Merican way. Yawwwp!
Several hundred dollars later, I came home armed with the latest hi-tech de-forrestation devices. There were long pointy blades with teeth. There were other things that would amputate the hardest wood with the pull of a ballistic nylon cord, attached to a reverse pinion lever mech, that in turn applied a double sided angular pressure that increased with lever pull by a factor of 6! Were talking physics. Science. Zen and the art of killing that fucking tree.
The moment of truth came a few days later. Actually, there would be many moments of truth, but the first was the more stoic of the 15-20 that came along shortly afterwards. I was 40 feet in the air dangling by an inexpensive Ace Hardware cord, perched on Billie Rae's rickety 'I shoulda burned this fowa scrap, yawwp' ladder.
I was faced with the stark realization that my high tech, high dollar, highly dangerous orange tree killer thingy, high altitude perch, was sufficient for little more than pruning Jill's tomatoes growing down on the deck. And to make matters worse, I was still 40 feet off the ground and according to the instructions (which I always read) was supposed to start making long push-pulling motions with the thing. I knew my fate right then, and it didn't involve dangerous acrobatics 40 feet up in the air. I needed an edge. A man's edge.
I needed gasoline powered equipment. Large, cumbersome, highly dangerous, highly effective whirling Dervishes of Death to Trees! I realized that if I have to be perched 40 feet in the air, I may as well add some chainsaws to the mix...

Hello God? It's me RJS, please kill me now

Raymond J and Reid are currently waxing fillosofikal over at Andy's site. It's a humdinger of a yawner:

RJS: It's true the phantom harmonics of diatonic scales were first used by early neopaleolithic hunter gathers in their ever expanding quest to kill more buffalo. My mother also made me dress as a Lithuanian prostitute until I was 16.

Reid: Raymond, that's so much rubbish. (rubbish: snotty psuedo 'east end' phrase for shit) Here at the hallowed halls of YALE !!! Did I mention that I live near YALE!!!!!. It is well known that master Uncle Kikowakawakaleleu'ulululu'ululupa'awikiwiki (born Beto Hernandez) told me and my lovely that the phantom harmonics can only be replicated by an 11 string guitar, with the steel of the strings coming from Ukranian tin mines, where the primary smelting was done by Estonian midgets wearing leiderhosen on Thursdays. The ones manufactured on Wednesdays are just rubbish !!

Etc ad naseaum

Google Desktop is God

Took all of 2 seconds!!! Used 2 words, it was the 1st response. I'm impressed...


You buy your crutches instead of renting

You see nothing wrong with discussing the connection between hydration and urine color

You have stopped even trying to explain to your spouse why you need two bikes...you just go buy another one and figure it will all work out in the divorce settlement.

You no longer require a hankie to blow your nose.

Despite all that winter fat you put on, you'll skim weight by buying titanium components.

When driving, you yell "On Your Left!" on passing another car.

You yell "Hole!" when you see a pothole while driving your car.

Your bike has more miles on its computer then your car's odometer

Your bikes are worth more than your car.

You view crashes as an opportunity to upgrade components.

You clean your bike(s) more often then your car.

You regard inter-gender discussion of genital pain as normal

Fall down go boom

Tripped over my own feet yesterday. Managed to wrench my knee. This was prolly to keep from having to do the hillclimb Sunday. We'll see. Not as bad as I thought it was.

Ohhhh....drool.....salivate......indictments...tomorrow!!!
The vice president? Karl Rover, 'cm'here boy...sit..stay...good dog. ? The great white hope itself? Stay tuned.

qwikresponses

Chonk: Yep! I did. Something like 98-99, one of those. It's Googlable under cmdrpiffle, or his holiness, the piffle. (CmdrPiffle@aol is an imposter wank who ripped a good thing when he saw it.)

followed'ed: Somewhere. I think it's on this drive, or the server where I am. I'll look in a bit and post here if I find it. I know I have it, but finding stuff is it's own issue sometimes. I do have the Google Desktop search thingy. I'll maybe try it out for the first time.

bike porn 

Busted! 

Bike Porn !!

Been too long! A quick fix of Bike Porn. What to do on a business trip when a bike convention is held in the same hotel????
Donna busted for racing at high speed through the hotel lobby.
Nice Shocks

Bob, this is where I'm going after work today. I'm leaving early, going riding, and will be HERE while you're still at work. 

Floriduhh Farker 

Oh yeah, Floriduhh is Fucked

Heard it here first. I'm watching the real time satellite imaging. They're going down hard. Then, any state with 17 foot Burmese Pythons, alligators, and crocodiles running about should probably be flushed anyway.

the last good day... 

It was intentional

There wasn't any ambiguity in my comments on Taropatch. It was when the rock hard Christian right reared it's ugly head, that I spoke. To continue the earlier rant, it's about a bunch of middle aged white boys who like the music because it's simple to play. It's not a Bach guitar suite, it's an open tuned guitar.
Now, everyone has an uncle. Or is an uncle. I haven't got that one figured out yet. If your 3 year old is out playing with other 3 year olds.....they're supposed to call him 'uncle'. Honest. Just ask me.
For the end, I don't agree at all. It was more about a bunch of folks getting up on stage and playing something they'd practiced ad nauseam, not remotely Hawaiian, and fucking that up as well. Anything to belong I guess.

Amoral Amerika?

Some things just make me happy. Consider the smiling idiot Tom DeLay of Tejas. Nothing like a grinning right wing conservative fuckwad who honestly has no idea why he's there.


Arizona RepublicDeLay Booked in Houston on ChargesWashington Post - 1 hour agoBy MICHAEL GRACZYK. HOUSTON -- Rep. Tom DeLay turned himself in Thursday at the sheriff's office and was fingerprinted, photographed and released on $10,000 bail on conspiracy and money-laundering charges. ...

Glad to see someone called one of these neocons on something, even if it is all for show.
None of you have any balls...

Doing it right

I notice there's always a bit more pressure when you're re-doing the blog log from the office computer. Never know who's going to walk in.

testing one two 3

blah blah blah