tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77977377657245914162024-03-21T05:17:40.212-04:00So far I haven't been arrested for it."There are places I'll remember,
all my life though some have changed,
some forever not for better,
some have gone and some remain"Mick Brennanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09878482559394566227noreply@blogger.comBlogger35125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797737765724591416.post-62328248667253171212013-05-12T10:35:00.000-04:002013-05-13T16:37:47.963-04:00Bad Karma on i77<div style="text-align: justify;">
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We just got back from Florida at 6:00 Wednesday night. It was a motorhome trip that involved towing her convertible, camping, vodka, firearms and huge expenditures of time and money. Thought you might enjoy the highlights.</div>
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We left without incident and drove south on into the night the first day. Dirty misty rain caused the last 3 hours driven that night to be less than comfortable. We crashed in the steady rain at a truck stop that night. The place was packed with huge trucks and a few $200k coaches. What's the sense of owning a 1/4 million dollar rig if you don't want to sleep in a parking lot someplace surrounded by idling diesel trucks? </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz6Ox-pwI8vC0dC6xjvQ4sqh2qv9xYyRO7hWJRVx_wQO4Y2luScNqZG5JB9r7tnCdUSsyFkDdMMINntSqp16VLHmItn5_a5DNHUG90iwPrcbYwjRzDXag80w9gxBwe3OIBh1G6a8CKRr4/s1600/P4150025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz6Ox-pwI8vC0dC6xjvQ4sqh2qv9xYyRO7hWJRVx_wQO4Y2luScNqZG5JB9r7tnCdUSsyFkDdMMINntSqp16VLHmItn5_a5DNHUG90iwPrcbYwjRzDXag80w9gxBwe3OIBh1G6a8CKRr4/s200/P4150025.JPG" width="200" /></a>The sun came out the next day and we breezed in to Kissimmee without incident. Cypress Cove Resort had our reservations all ready and the campsite they saved for us was just right. It has 50 amp power for all our goodies, water, sewer, cable tv and wifi too. Okay! It was time to crack open a bottle of Mexican Vodka and chill out. We rested that afternoon. </div>
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That's about it for the good stuff. I rented a golf cart the second day we were there to make it easier to get around the campground. That was great until I backed it into the support for our extended awning. But the damage was (mostly) repaired by raising one of the hydraulic leveling jacks and lowering it over the bent area. Hey, it works well enough to be operational but the aluminum channel still has a little zig zag in it.</div>
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After getting a early start Saturday morning we followed our printed directions to help navigate home. It was a very nice day rolling smoothly north from Florida even after running into some construction the map, odometer and clock all agreed that we were about 45 minutes ahead of schedule. About 5:00 pm while passing a truck on a hill in North Carolina the dashboard suddenly lit up like a christmas tree. Temp gauges spiked on tranny and engine, the stop engine light was bright red and turbo boost gauge dropped to zero and we started to slow rapidly. I headed for the shoulder. We pulled over just downstream of an overpass. The coach was leaning at a precarious angle and still close enough to the road that every passing truck blasted us with a gust of air strong enough to make the entire 36 feet of diesel pusher shudder in fear. </div>
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The next day the company miraculously was able to find us a mechanic to come out to check us out. The problem was a fan belt tensioner pulley. This guy was able to "presidentially engineer" a bungee cord to somehow allow us to limp down the interstate to a rest stop where we spent another night on the side of the road. He came out Monday and installed a new pulley. He had way more guns than us and we had a fun time doing show and tell. The Guys flashed our guns and the girls compared tattoos.</div>
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Our frustration level was growing so we decided to drive 5 more hours to Shenandoah Valley and spend a few days there for R&R. We pulled into a nice KOA where we had stayed before and settled in. The next day we unhitched the convertible and drove out to visit a few micro breweries.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwQVee8bXZkf9bTaNxGOFohh2QFGPomMQ6s9gyIzTl3yeCqkOj6vajpzLiqGwW0e7u-y-vkDqqOnpU9qIHJaTQbLPAVt6y6PtC2_VHVQRgCHyDY2pDLAnU1NJdALdc1Yoy97bHX5IRUTo/s1600/P4300444.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwQVee8bXZkf9bTaNxGOFohh2QFGPomMQ6s9gyIzTl3yeCqkOj6vajpzLiqGwW0e7u-y-vkDqqOnpU9qIHJaTQbLPAVt6y6PtC2_VHVQRgCHyDY2pDLAnU1NJdALdc1Yoy97bHX5IRUTo/s200/P4300444.JPG" width="200" /></a>On our way back to the campsite a big fat chick, shaped like an upside down bowling pin clobbered us from behind while we were stopped in traffic. I think she was texting. So now Pats car is all smashed up. She is becoming less happy by the minute. We call the cops, exchange insurance and head back to the KOA. We both have doctors appointments and my buddy the lawyer is on it already.</div>
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We spent another night there, woke up early and planned an uneventful drive back to PA. Getting ready to go involves checking everything. Whoops, flat tire on the motorhome. That tire is a Big bastard too. Back on the phone to our road service company. Turns out they do not fix flats. They sell tires. $750 and they don't cover labor to mount it. Fugetaboudit. The nice girl in the office called a local who came out, removed the roofing nail and repaired the tire for $104. Guy had a serious case of meth mouth but man, he could wrestle a tire.</div>
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Now we are home. Shit, what's next?</div>
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Mick Brennanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09878482559394566227noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797737765724591416.post-20712298641684856872012-09-27T22:39:00.004-04:002012-09-27T22:42:55.417-04:00Wayback Machine<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNUgLXm8GaN1VQMt8EbUjeSyGrnBU2wbFBCrI2UAZo6TBlLVCochqT9-JMprmZ_bfDP8oUvuyemmCpxvsCmciL9edGuGehfR55NpaF09d5Wggwn4UK-MswL_3Jpb0M6l_EiYJGzlHsTss/s1600/bmi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="163" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNUgLXm8GaN1VQMt8EbUjeSyGrnBU2wbFBCrI2UAZo6TBlLVCochqT9-JMprmZ_bfDP8oUvuyemmCpxvsCmciL9edGuGehfR55NpaF09d5Wggwn4UK-MswL_3Jpb0M6l_EiYJGzlHsTss/s200/bmi.jpg" width="200" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10px;"><span style="font-family: tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">Set your time machine for 1970.5, (±1 year) I was dating the daughter of a quack doctor. This guy was making a killing selling diet pills and behavior counseling to housewives from all over our county back in NJ. They had built a great big fancy house with his office attached, along the main drag a few towns over from us. I had met this girl, in summer school and we really hit it off in a free-spirited, Summer of Love, kind of way. It might have been the summer of Bordentown Military Academy or the hippie dippie, Moorestown Friends School or maybe it was Doane Academy Preparatory School. I am not sure. Anyway, she was a furry, freaky, funny, happy, blue eye blonde, rich, hippy chick who never wore underwear and really didn't give a $hit in a very sweet, casual kind of way. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10px;"><span style="font-family: tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">My parents had no clue about raising a kid and her parents believed in freedom, or some sixties notion like that. We were a hit! </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10px;"><span style="font-family: tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">I was totally infatuated with this girl because she was so fresh and so different from the girls in my home town.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKvdYqliHiued51hC68UxIT_zLvCHFQ9Nqqrvfxp-hATWlmi6clUCIRGotXjAPAmYeXal3FCQ-5-jPGKnc6RJnYFV4_ym2spDR6xKk4JJ_kEMGI-KwXRFRH30sKEjI1nAGxMqvVzC9xq0/s1600/images-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="border-collapse: collapse; clear: left; color: #222222; float: left; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" height="142" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKvdYqliHiued51hC68UxIT_zLvCHFQ9Nqqrvfxp-hATWlmi6clUCIRGotXjAPAmYeXal3FCQ-5-jPGKnc6RJnYFV4_ym2spDR6xKk4JJ_kEMGI-KwXRFRH30sKEjI1nAGxMqvVzC9xq0/s200/images-1.jpeg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">Her family was very progressive. Except the doctor dad, he stayed in the clinic for what seemed to me 24 hours a day so he was absent. They had a big pool out back in which the entire family frequently jumped into and out of without a stitch, Mom included! Similarly they roamed freely about the house, sometimes dripping wet in an exposed state seemingly without notice. All this much to the dismay of the older brother who repeated reminded the mother, "Mom! We have company."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">There were times when the mom asked if I was "staying over" and she never had a problem sending me upstairs to wake her or to help get her ready when picking her up for a date. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">This one night she was very excited. "Let's go!"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">"What." </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_DU5BdyD_Iv-2cPkY9biC_42lutqi29wvYvxzU0eqcJqwqfB7eYONdx-U-0grXhhuZy96ZonCmIQtV_pMyI0ZNfb24MQOB41C34_wBjKP0JGi1C-7zlt4Ob3J-6duUgGbdZ2cERfnlrU/s1600/1961_chevrolet_impala_nomad_station_wagon14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_DU5BdyD_Iv-2cPkY9biC_42lutqi29wvYvxzU0eqcJqwqfB7eYONdx-U-0grXhhuZy96ZonCmIQtV_pMyI0ZNfb24MQOB41C34_wBjKP0JGi1C-7zlt4Ob3J-6duUgGbdZ2cERfnlrU/s200/1961_chevrolet_impala_nomad_station_wagon14.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">"Hurry we'll be too late." She rushed to my '61 chevy wagon, jumped in the drivers side and slid half way across the bench seat.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">"What, where huh?!" She never did anything in a hurry. I got in the car and took off. Turns out she had tickets for a concert. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">"There's this new band called Jethro Tull."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">"Jethro Tull?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">"The front man plays a FLUTE!"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">She assured me it was going to be very cool and I would like it and please drive fast to Philly. A big green cloud filled the car as we drove toward the new Spectrum. We arrived just as JT was taking the stage. I was amazed at the smell in that place and how long everybody's hair was. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">The music started just as we emerged from the ramp to the second floor. The crowd let out a roar and music filled the hall. I was stopped in my tracks by the volume and the vivid scene that had suddenly unfolded directly in front of us. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">"Quick" she says, grabbing my hand and giving a little squeal of delight, "Let's sit here." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">We slid our feet under the bar at the top of the ramp, sitting on concrete, our earth shoes and ragged bell bottoms dangling 30 feet in the air and our heads and arms protruding through the space between the second and top bars. These were great seats, forget those numbers on our tickets, stay right here. The stage was just below us and slightly to the right. The sound was amazing! The colors smoke and flashing lights were out of this world. The acrid smell of sweat and weed was just overpowering. I was stupefied with happiness. Who could imagine such a scene existed on earth. Joy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">The music finished and Ian Anderson announced the name of the song and plugged the new album, Aqualung. I swear he looked right at us! The piano player, dressed in an all white suit, was rapidly and deliberately pacing around the stage as Anderson began to introduce the next song. The Piano dude looked like a cross between an ice cream man and an over amped Colonel Sanders with hair down to the middle of his back and cascading over both shoulders. This guy was so wound up that he would frantically wave one hand or the other as fast as possible if he had an idle second without assigned notes to play. The urgent, rapid strides around the stage continued between songs. It's a wonder his heart didn't explode right then.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBvPQa4vbrnibcGy26YD85lXVH_FK2-rL4CWELfuCQ3UfBQ2AcuZ2pxcGqShg6AX2e7ZNy7iZDI29okjgmUwmznzFRI0EhAV_hl9GnpP3nymePr2BmxATqyQdG2OGsut1JI0utavtA9aE/s1600/Ian_Anderson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBvPQa4vbrnibcGy26YD85lXVH_FK2-rL4CWELfuCQ3UfBQ2AcuZ2pxcGqShg6AX2e7ZNy7iZDI29okjgmUwmznzFRI0EhAV_hl9GnpP3nymePr2BmxATqyQdG2OGsut1JI0utavtA9aE/s320/Ian_Anderson.jpg" width="212" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">Mr Anderson had an unusual appearance also. He was wearing a bright green, soiled, swallow tail coat with one tail raggedly removed. He had sort of white tight pants and brown, fringed, over the calf, lace up fringed boots. He put the sole of one boot on his opposite knee as he played the flute. Long, wild, frizzy hair and a full untrimmed beard completed his stage presence. Freaky. The third (or tenth) song was Cross-eyed Mary. An excerpt of the lyrics is:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;"><i>Laughing in the playground -- gets no kicks from little boys:</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;"><i>would rather make it with a letching grey.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;"><i>Or maybe her attention is drawn by Aqualung,</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;"><i>who watches through the railings as they play.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;"><i>Cross-eyed Mary... </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">Just as Anderson sang "maybe her attention is drawn by Aqualung" he cocked his head toward us. He was looking right at me! He stretched out a bony hand with the longest fingers I had ever seen in my life, pointed right at us and sang, "watches through the railings..." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">So here I was barely 17, first real concert, tweaked out of my head, in a perch suspended high above the crowd and this guy saw us! I was part of the show. Everybody looked. She rushed, shook her hair and threw her arms over her head and kicked her feet. It seemed the singer appreciated the exuberant little show she put on. Thumbs up! We were quickly joined on the ledge by others seeking to share our advantage in access to the band. The sudden movement caused the guards to descend in a large group. Now we were caught in an unsafe and popular position. We had to take our real seats for the rest of the concert. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkwWvnquOMxYP8Txx1-txKz2uuXZyWLUwa8egh2XUPOshsQKuA2joIFzdSwckb_ZhcOl61n7ySY_UuGmUKyFcfa2Wv9MV7UIF9A6-Jx-sO_vxwkVsFhz4mhrJeYDGhQbo1OBoFLxBMShM/s1600/182.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkwWvnquOMxYP8Txx1-txKz2uuXZyWLUwa8egh2XUPOshsQKuA2joIFzdSwckb_ZhcOl61n7ySY_UuGmUKyFcfa2Wv9MV7UIF9A6-Jx-sO_vxwkVsFhz4mhrJeYDGhQbo1OBoFLxBMShM/s200/182.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">After that night, every time I returned to the The Spectrum and saw the solid steel panel welded to the bottom of all the railings at the top of each ramp reminded me that Rita, me and Ian Andersen were the reason they modified that opening. The little hippie chick</span><span style="font-family: tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"> succumbed to cancer </span><span style="font-family: tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">and The Spectrum has been demolished and replaced by a bigger, better, more modern facility. Ian Andersen is still making music and me... well you know what I do.</span></div>
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Mick Brennanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09878482559394566227noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797737765724591416.post-92091482500903033272012-05-15T10:24:00.000-04:002012-05-17T08:13:00.579-04:00Chaos at CUN<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10px;"><span style="font-family: tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222;">We were once delayed at the Cancun airport by a full figured lady whose under-wire supporting garment had activated the warning buzzer on the metal detector portal. Our line at CUN paused</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222;"> t</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222;">o observe the 3 minute spectacle. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222;">The Mexican TSA agent repeatedly waved the wand back and forth across her chest, beep, beeeeep, beeeeeeeeeeep, alternating</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222;"> over her boobs, in turn.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0QagNknaE-iIemH5Dq7FIjWwFNgniPrEWWmPq3fIaTKA-fBZJ-fvQVoU8L3RFi_vkmbjkbMBFD7z-bl7o9oJ7VJg_puWlA7N2fbj-t63FWdBKnPiV4dDnpZm8v-SrRn4ZLAaCchwSEm4/s1600/images-2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;">"Its my bra." she whispered to the agent.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;">Beeeep.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0QagNknaE-iIemH5Dq7FIjWwFNgniPrEWWmPq3fIaTKA-fBZJ-fvQVoU8L3RFi_vkmbjkbMBFD7z-bl7o9oJ7VJg_puWlA7N2fbj-t63FWdBKnPiV4dDnpZm8v-SrRn4ZLAaCchwSEm4/s1600/images-2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0QagNknaE-iIemH5Dq7FIjWwFNgniPrEWWmPq3fIaTKA-fBZJ-fvQVoU8L3RFi_vkmbjkbMBFD7z-bl7o9oJ7VJg_puWlA7N2fbj-t63FWdBKnPiV4dDnpZm8v-SrRn4ZLAaCchwSEm4/s200/images-2.jpeg" width="175" /></a><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;">"It's an underwire."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;">Beeeeeeep, beep. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;">"My BBBRRRRAAAH." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;">She was pronouncing the word very carefully as to make herself better understood.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;">Beep, Beep. The screener looked slightly puzzled.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;">"Want me to take off my shirt?" Her frustration grew as did the volume of her speech.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;">Beeep, beeep, chirp, beep. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;">A little louder now, "I'll do it, swear to god!" </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;">Suddenly she crossed her arms low and grabbed the bottom of her Senor Frog Bar tee. She thought better of it and changed her tactics midstream. We stood transfixed behind the line ropes while the traveler did the bra off thing under her shirt. She quickly flipped the hooks in the back, drove her hand under each sleeve and reached up under the front of her tee shirt for a grand finale. Swoosh. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdqkDGyJiYvWx8yx6ipZPLMspV4_zKZ_CylKYp6-p1ZTtn8Bf9jdBUnAf_-CbWLcds9yCAGqUjrwLaB8-BZq7sdkBpQJbX_9vRL_0EZpjJcBS7QTeZ1u5qalqahmIq68rAytz_GI0Titc/s1600/DownloadedFile-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdqkDGyJiYvWx8yx6ipZPLMspV4_zKZ_CylKYp6-p1ZTtn8Bf9jdBUnAf_-CbWLcds9yCAGqUjrwLaB8-BZq7sdkBpQJbX_9vRL_0EZpjJcBS7QTeZ1u5qalqahmIq68rAytz_GI0Titc/s200/DownloadedFile-1.jpeg" width="200" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;">"See?" She said, raising her arms aloft displaying the expensive, white, industrial strength, metal filled, Cross Your Heart, 4 hook, padded strap, Maidenform bra high above her head and rotated 360° to give us all a full frontal view of both the doomed garment and her double D bosoms straining against the cotton tee shirt. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;">"Everybody see?" </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL3cbZdDprYzakMrznRqON6pJjABH7AR8lJeRlDZ1ZYGCwq4XfPv1q8y4KX65ncU9mzMGNSrgoTcIEoy04nndK57sV5fQWRYgRsugJ-2Pgu-aH3xayDdWxHr-WejyA8ojToBcCmKkhxIM/s1600/images-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"></span></a><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;">And to the Mexican TSA lady who by now was standing by sheepishly, "Now are you happy?" </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFcSXftJaet8aeYiwfIMZrFws3FXQyR05q9g9ew7kgpOSETsvTqV9-YbJLEyuJge1LnhS-oUWVGUkdXmMX5BD8X0ySzgH4-xK44SRCzVIuY6oEdp4eW4m-OCmpu3X1JSCR2gMEABwXByY/s1600/images-3.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFcSXftJaet8aeYiwfIMZrFws3FXQyR05q9g9ew7kgpOSETsvTqV9-YbJLEyuJge1LnhS-oUWVGUkdXmMX5BD8X0ySzgH4-xK44SRCzVIuY6oEdp4eW4m-OCmpu3X1JSCR2gMEABwXByY/s320/images-3.jpeg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;">Yup, everybody was smiling and we all seemed very happy. The offending metal brassiere was unceremoniously deposited in the waste receptacle, the black electronic wand passed silently over her boobs, she passed through the metal detector without an audible incident and we all walked off merrily toward our respective gates.</span></div>
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</div>Mick Brennanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09878482559394566227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797737765724591416.post-74580880508021854352012-04-21T21:57:00.000-04:002012-04-21T22:10:43.801-04:00Enough Already<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhILJnArh0mQcwwGfzrkekazLtPrjKS8l4Zq-5ZyiGR_w02WqgVGJj9x4b3gWNPO9Mi-Lcnl3DBNc4kPu1wRlKii-fhojmJ6Nbz6GxhPFYBlI5t9tPVwhxvmRX9KttBk2gQfaZuYBwOOm8/s1600/Mezcal-worm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhILJnArh0mQcwwGfzrkekazLtPrjKS8l4Zq-5ZyiGR_w02WqgVGJj9x4b3gWNPO9Mi-Lcnl3DBNc4kPu1wRlKii-fhojmJ6Nbz6GxhPFYBlI5t9tPVwhxvmRX9KttBk2gQfaZuYBwOOm8/s320/Mezcal-worm.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Remember when you got a favorite toy as a kid? Or when you became a little older and had ample funds at your disposal, you could go to the candy store and get all the candy you wanted. Or better yet, how about that time when the drinks were so delicious and the effect so pleasant that you figured that more would be better? Fairly soon that toy lost its charm, candy became tasteless and repulsive as your taste buds fatigued and quit under the onslaught of sugary treats. And sometimes the booze wins the battle.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWtKDr__ToLaOWQNMgTTYTqAJwYOlzX8rDYWSJ6z9jfL3n_IsQ6R3w39b4jDo88Fbi0UXKYzCmeRFUu-hQOuLyUBH2ogNhRoFcDKNCyZUE4qkyNX6J0dl901PDuLLHgmupXx8wMQBjxMA/s1600/Projectile_Vomiting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWtKDr__ToLaOWQNMgTTYTqAJwYOlzX8rDYWSJ6z9jfL3n_IsQ6R3w39b4jDo88Fbi0UXKYzCmeRFUu-hQOuLyUBH2ogNhRoFcDKNCyZUE4qkyNX6J0dl901PDuLLHgmupXx8wMQBjxMA/s320/Projectile_Vomiting.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Once at a party in the 70's, I had a little segmented worm from a bottle of cheap Mezcal. It was fun running around with it on my tongue, showing all the girls who screamed and turned away. It was a different matter when, for some unknown reason, half the bottle gone, I decided to bite the damn thing. It had been soaking in the mescal for quite a while and it had a super concentrated flavor of tequila/mescal/insect guts. It was an immediate emetic. As soon as the worm guts entered my mouth my insides did the same. I barely made it to the commode as my lower intestine tried to help my stomach better evacuate its contents. It wasn't a total loss because back then projectile vomiting was usually a big hit and the indicator of any real party. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfmkmOPLp8QDdBpFPJgNbHFkeDV8kygm3czQ7qvALC5xOCJypIBCxXvdqMzBZ8l8Py_pZFmpjypEftnsAQ5MiSh3RQmzLGvYsMdgTtv9yoHnhTWHhcuzTfKDsDitRqzgT5Ao4Ns85dAyE/s1600/P2251161.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfmkmOPLp8QDdBpFPJgNbHFkeDV8kygm3czQ7qvALC5xOCJypIBCxXvdqMzBZ8l8Py_pZFmpjypEftnsAQ5MiSh3RQmzLGvYsMdgTtv9yoHnhTWHhcuzTfKDsDitRqzgT5Ao4Ns85dAyE/s320/P2251161.JPG" width="320" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">We have been here, in Playa del Carmen Mexico for 122 days. We have had three mini vacations to different parts of Mexico, two snorkel trips and 3 all-inclusive days with one more on the books. We have fixed the lights in the ceiling, shopped and found a sofa, love seat, Tommy Bahama beach chairs with coolers built into the back and a matching umbrella. We had the washer fixed once, the fridge took a shit and spoiled much of our food, twice. We have eaten food at carts on the street and carts in the dirt, at Italian, Chinese, Indian, American and of course Mexican restaurants. We have found and installed pieces of obscure hardware. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirEy3aI4TrRG0j_xi9C792pRoEKYQ2kCVQFg5pVMiYbZKlQs4d1qQftgypEYbX4ZtUwX9pPwhwEvd1p2bvFE1RjZwLG_55HHZTQWgjfjtSriGMeL4bPjKOWysrba3gmAJo6gJNUhRQBsA/s1600/DownloadedFile.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirEy3aI4TrRG0j_xi9C792pRoEKYQ2kCVQFg5pVMiYbZKlQs4d1qQftgypEYbX4ZtUwX9pPwhwEvd1p2bvFE1RjZwLG_55HHZTQWgjfjtSriGMeL4bPjKOWysrba3gmAJo6gJNUhRQBsA/s1600/DownloadedFile.jpeg" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Last week a belligerent, middle aged Mexican man with gray roots, stood in our way, directly in front of the path of our car in Sam's parking lot. He was texting or something. He knew we were there but he didn't care. He was on vacation and he had a few bucks. We are foreigners after all. We can wait. As we entered the store he was directly in the isle. Again blocking my path, elbows extended, still fascinated with his phone like a teenage girl. I gave him a little bump with my shoulder and pinched his ass, hard. This cocky, little chubby, bastard was a foot and a half shorter and a hundred pounds lighter. Pat was following behind because this guy had obstructed the foot traffic down a single lane at the entrance to Sam's Club. She witness his reaction from only two feet away. She said he jumped a mile, sized me up and sheepishly moved to the side. Enough of the macho, bullfighter mentality for him. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Our downstairs neighbors are obnoxious boors. She woke us almost every day screeching Phylis Diller like nonsense syllables. Her normal voice is so backwoods Midwest that it is difficult for me to understand her on a good day. Everything is I, me or my with her. She was telling a story about her grandson getting stung by a bee at her house. It included a description of her wooden table and some history of the table, what she was wearing, which flowers she had planted and what she had for lunch. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Her husband is a total pussy. He is one of those guys who delights in telling you how it should have been done if you knew what you were doing, the best way to get somewhere after you get back or the proper way to repair an item soon after you fix it. These obnoxious people are almost directly beneath us. We shared a diagonally adjacent balcony corner. They, singlehandedly, almost prevented us from enjoying our winter. If not for the sunny dispositions of the base crew of owners here we would have withdrawn from condo society completely. The other "Nor tays" seemed to all agree about the monopolizing attitude of our private Phyllis Diller. They tolerated it publicly much better than we did. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But now, with a week to go. I have had enough. The town is beginning to separate itself into two sections. One a gleaming, modern resort, sparkling with all the amenities. The other has started to look like a medieval torture chamber. I miss cheesesteaks and the familiar taste of a Union Barrel Works carver sandwich paired with micro brew porter. I know that it will take some time for real, east coast English to return and this other language, rattling around in my brain like an insufficient, little donut spare tire loose in the trunk, to leave my conscious thought patterns. I am just beginning to understand some of the high speed stuff they speak only among the Spanish speakers and TV commercials. But the time for that has passed for this season. It's getting tiresome. I welcome the acrid smell of urine from the Philadelphia Airport Jetway. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Pat shut down three weeks ago, she has retreated from the chaos of Mexico and the invasive rantings of our neighbor to the comfort of CSI reruns and the American satellite TV coming from a homemade, Frankenstein looking dish mounted on the roof of Condo Tower C and her Kindle.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5sSBTnwUiSJesYjGRsiHuLLVm97Xlye_IQaYlWGcOoHAy4bFMQfj89uUGI8G-0k_njxSU5O_MHK6SPf5tbdYpq3jSuxeD_MfQ6qSERihzS4-7HQXXf5xANPFKK-VRRQGtKT4LhGD3IFg/s1600/785px-US_Airways_Philadelphia_Airport.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5sSBTnwUiSJesYjGRsiHuLLVm97Xlye_IQaYlWGcOoHAy4bFMQfj89uUGI8G-0k_njxSU5O_MHK6SPf5tbdYpq3jSuxeD_MfQ6qSERihzS4-7HQXXf5xANPFKK-VRRQGtKT4LhGD3IFg/s320/785px-US_Airways_Philadelphia_Airport.jpg" width="320" /></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">All indications are, it is time to go, to flee, to abandon this country for now. But unlike that mescal in the 70's the worm has decided to stay in the bottle. Those people downstairs will be in Florida next winter and not return in the foreseeable future. Mr and Ms obnoxious plan to lease out their condo to more normal people. We have a beautiful piece of art our friend created which we will treasure forever. So next year promises to hold new journeys, fresh adventures and more culinary delights and best of all, we look forward to the very pleasant, easy company of our friends here in Playa del Carmen. We are excited to get home to Pennsylvania and can't wait to return.</span><br />
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</div>Mick Brennanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09878482559394566227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797737765724591416.post-23916550923301995932011-08-13T10:32:00.002-04:002011-08-13T10:46:31.027-04:00Friday Morning in the Summer.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5vgXruG_9f2emQLVYW2FcqhQTb2twavPNPIRGi5mcn_NvqPjDXIhs181NSPdHPUYxbwXwnKTA_rzTCOD-Oo-zGzBIddp89QI8PDogokU3iTIx8rKggK_vFK5021kyte9lsxIwX63VCK4/s1600/DownloadedFile.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5vgXruG_9f2emQLVYW2FcqhQTb2twavPNPIRGi5mcn_NvqPjDXIhs181NSPdHPUYxbwXwnKTA_rzTCOD-Oo-zGzBIddp89QI8PDogokU3iTIx8rKggK_vFK5021kyte9lsxIwX63VCK4/s1600/DownloadedFile.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 16pt;">There was all this screaming behind our home this morning. Like a herd of children turned loose with a bowl of sugar cereal and some redpunch. It dissipated into the morning stillness over the soccer fields behind our deck and a misty morning serenity slowly returned. Except for one kid. That kid was really having a great time enjoying its freedom. Repeated intervals of screaming, whoops and hollers caused me to mosey out on the balcony to have a look. Bubba the parrot slept out there last night. Because of the great weather we had allowed the doors to remain open and the cats were roaming in and out at will during the evening hours while we slept. The cats decided to follow me out. I greeted Bubba and he answered me "Hello, Stick em up." The parrot spotted the kitten, "Stop it." he scolded the cat. I sipped some coffee and directed my gaze toward the sounds. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLrDfuiXVpD37zoRgxcIkF4iQFThaBSzpzlejswJhTPyT34Dec-npC1vOve8aNd6LbmSKwy2OCEyhBScmDnTuIp8SNwEUa0Z84mqfPba-emxfDuwXzsYCQcBh95OtlnUtMaYqucS0ms8I/s1600/302_0851.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLrDfuiXVpD37zoRgxcIkF4iQFThaBSzpzlejswJhTPyT34Dec-npC1vOve8aNd6LbmSKwy2OCEyhBScmDnTuIp8SNwEUa0Z84mqfPba-emxfDuwXzsYCQcBh95OtlnUtMaYqucS0ms8I/s320/302_0851.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 16pt;">There is a church across the athletic fields, the Community Rec Center has an athletic field there too. But that is not where this maniac kid was. It was in the little park the community constructed. They have swings and junk over there I think and that is where the kid was. Now the one kid was in full stride Whooping and Screaming over and over and over. Maybe it was a summer camp outing. It is a beautiful day, a Friday and just perfect to let the little bastards blow off some steam and get their energy levels depleted a little. This kid was still going strong. Now and then one of the other kids screams would join this one noisy kid's voice but they were mostly quiet. As I looked across the dry grass the small group of kids and two or three adults came into view under the trees in the community area. They seemed as if it was a summer school program or a church group, we have a LOT of that here, out to take in the scene and get a breath of fresh air. The children were following one adult who was moving away from the forested area and getting closer to the open soccer fields. Another adult was bringing up the rear and herding the reluctant children along when I saw The Hyper Kid. THK was running concentric circles around the adult leading the group he darted in and out of the cluster of children as a comet orbiting a solar system. This kid was on it. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjsjDn94Xf1x-KeQxZTb38LKYSYdpLgnQ6q-aouYzEu0LJkLBlGxlxbjbT-cZz6nWJ_jMG5Djp8_BI99BIzBx4SJVwBQUpBkpwESZ5OvIRu-yDkHF2yxHqAGl86csHNUQ5Py4ag9fan0w/s1600/images-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjsjDn94Xf1x-KeQxZTb38LKYSYdpLgnQ6q-aouYzEu0LJkLBlGxlxbjbT-cZz6nWJ_jMG5Djp8_BI99BIzBx4SJVwBQUpBkpwESZ5OvIRu-yDkHF2yxHqAGl86csHNUQ5Py4ag9fan0w/s1600/images-1.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 16pt;">It became evident that the shouts that accompanied THK were not attempts at harmony but actually protests and shrieks of dismay as he swooped in to harass any stragglers from the pack of kids. THK was determined to attack one child per circuit as a rogue asteroid might do to communications satellites. They were standing at the edge of the field when the lead adult grabbed THK. He took him by the shoulders and rotated THK around to face the goal net far across the fields. The adult pointed, THK looked off into the distance and sighted the white support and the net it held. The adult pointed, let go and THK took off running across the two adjacent soccer fields toward the farthest net. The two adults cheered and they encouraged the other children to raise their voices too. THK was streaking past the center line screaming the whole time "AAAAHHHHHHAAAAAHHHHHH". He was past the first field in no time. The group yelled for him to go faster. He went faster. THK was really flying now. They yelled more. I could hear them, "Yay Hyper Kid!" He reached the goal net but he didn't stop, THK circled the goal box at full speed and volume and came running back. The cheering continued as lead adult moved to intercept THK before he got back to the group. THK showed no signs of fatigue in the legs or vocal cords. As he almost reached the assembled pack of humans, the lead adult, now twenty feet in front of the group of children, huddled together for safety, started making a circular motion with his arm as if he were twirling a lasso. THK knew exactly what to do. He rounded the guy and headed off to the other end of the field again, still screaming and now waving both arms above his head and yelling like some kind of demented shaved monkey, shrieking in full gallop attacking a pile of bananas. The other kids hopped and cheered as THK swerved from their direction. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKjbgUhioB31Ph9ZnsBqHuRk8UI-Mns1Gq968oXtdfLwLgkR113dMW_TcsU_Ut2nbfXhNaTvy-WL_Fv37UKVOcZXLv1WYaLywP41ZmSyg3ijjP-cmGGHdKoKWk5K08Gg57zqe2_KjiIX4/s1600/302_0849.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKjbgUhioB31Ph9ZnsBqHuRk8UI-Mns1Gq968oXtdfLwLgkR113dMW_TcsU_Ut2nbfXhNaTvy-WL_Fv37UKVOcZXLv1WYaLywP41ZmSyg3ijjP-cmGGHdKoKWk5K08Gg57zqe2_KjiIX4/s320/302_0849.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 16pt;">THK made another round trip between the goals. He began to tire. His arms drooped below his shoulders. His shrieks became less frequent. It almost seemed that his speed was slightly diminished. The third trip began to have the desired effect. Both adults were trying to spur THK to continue but he was definitely running out of fuel. At the end of his fourth orbit THK flopped to the ground in front of the assembled group, arched his back and with one huge scream and a spasm of his arms and legs he lay spread eagle on the grass facing the sky. The group, sensing the end, turned in unison and slowly moved away.</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 21px;">So parents, please give your kid his medicine in the summer too. Even if it is Friday and even if it's the other parents weekend.</span></div>Mick Brennanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09878482559394566227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797737765724591416.post-23667877260677044692011-07-05T17:59:00.002-04:002011-07-05T19:40:52.425-04:00Welcome Desi<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
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</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">It has been an eventful time since we got home from Mexico. Poor Siamese got sicker and sicker. Sammy is gone now but we have a new member of our family. Desi is the new Siamese King. He is quite a handful. He knows no bounds and we hope to keep it that way. He is chewing on scattered papers, learning about how claws affect human skin and stacks of post-its as I try to type this. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo C.L.C.</td></tr>
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</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Desi may be a furry, cat, nudist. So far this kitten has slipped off and ditched two collars somewhere in the house. We have no idea where they are and he isn't telling. The missing collars coincided with his entry to the lower level where thousands of boxes, piles and storage bins attract the most surreptitious of instincts in a kitten. Desi also has developed a propensity for cream cheese. Just nuke a cinnamon bagel and he comes running. The cat wants a schmear! His affinity with cream cheese somehow also extends to yogurt. He seems to prefer blueberry over strawberry. The vet assured us that only about fifty percent of cats are truly lactose intolerant but, a fetid stench frequently emits from the vicinity of the base of his tail. The bombays appear to be most prone to opening when Desi is just about to fall asleep, which he chooses to do on the nearest available lap.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_NDZ2UsXdexmFhpSEhMLgIUphDrxYt-SMw9o6EKtWPDjUpl3zkjf_tkzhzcf624wt9aeyEIV72aJOYIHLagR4F93MoRNdro3YWts15bQ8oejgQKFmMs2HHUi4ys2mm3y2N2F4B_LdcVI/s1600/P6051735.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_NDZ2UsXdexmFhpSEhMLgIUphDrxYt-SMw9o6EKtWPDjUpl3zkjf_tkzhzcf624wt9aeyEIV72aJOYIHLagR4F93MoRNdro3YWts15bQ8oejgQKFmMs2HHUi4ys2mm3y2N2F4B_LdcVI/s320/P6051735.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Lucy has learned to deflect his frequent savage attacks. Our nearly 20 pound Main Coon places her gigantic paw on his forehead as he tries to lever his two and a half pound body, claws extended, reach her. These sparring matches appear comical because of the difference in size and slightly resemble the Stooges. Woub Woub Woub, nyuk nyuk nyuk.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzg2cTXQJJY0nyL3lu3V_tbuTdL9UYWM5PUaoSvJXkwMizh2yVPDix4k0x53KrGmL3kQ0529Ea3X8fjmmBAzA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span></div>Mick Brennanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09878482559394566227noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797737765724591416.post-20390516925268582592011-04-14T19:32:00.003-04:002011-04-14T19:43:56.217-04:00Ah fair retail.<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Goal Deluxe Sander Tree Beers</span></span></strong></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjeFQmNBJLvv142UxFrSRKSm3HEpU4G2GpzJz5tDzRNRX6xL86TdNC9S1jjIREKqBCQ8Jt5FP998r7tNh0RHLLb0AHAv-ZHY6253TdYtH3Ts-gHqnICjxIDDsmGS7pFm477NOWNzmz5go/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjeFQmNBJLvv142UxFrSRKSm3HEpU4G2GpzJz5tDzRNRX6xL86TdNC9S1jjIREKqBCQ8Jt5FP998r7tNh0RHLLb0AHAv-ZHY6253TdYtH3Ts-gHqnICjxIDDsmGS7pFm477NOWNzmz5go/s400/images.jpeg" width="350" /></span></span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></strong></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Won sap pun a tine dare washer ladle gull culled Goal Deluxe zoo leave din dissenter offer lodge forced widow mutter sander fodder.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjANLp-l-KmueFO3hAVSGwvhoIfZeoBAVUOoyVdxb8-Y6y0dhsvaKW9W4b0ZJ2TNTjHr0s9dnq27zhOJ-6IYT59uPqzd0cbnOjHgypFrVXu7GhBFAQUDWjGYA3KShyphenhyphen3-aI_Cys4iV-VBVg/s1600/images-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjANLp-l-KmueFO3hAVSGwvhoIfZeoBAVUOoyVdxb8-Y6y0dhsvaKW9W4b0ZJ2TNTjHr0s9dnq27zhOJ-6IYT59uPqzd0cbnOjHgypFrVXu7GhBFAQUDWjGYA3KShyphenhyphen3-aI_Cys4iV-VBVg/s320/images-1.jpeg" width="320" /></span></span></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ones window ladle gull and/or pear rents swear aweigh, dare hop penned topaz buy tree beers -- ham other beer, ha dotty beer, inner ladle bay be beer.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sea ingot dough row pin, bay be beer win tinfoil ode buys modern fodder. Dot repairs wondered true Goal Deluxe souse: day eight parch; day satin cheers; sand atlas day fellow slip into tree bids.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Wend Goal Deluxe inner mud rend fodder god hum, daze awe sun thin whirrs rung. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Sum bodice bin neat tender parch," sad Goal Deluxe, "an day aided awl! Handsome bodice bins it ten end dough's cheers!"</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Gong Hindu turbid run, Goal Deluxe led otters cream: "Sum bodice bin slipping inner bids anthers till dare!"</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipdscNtHb-Hra5WsQklnLpQnTdmdCyZfyRD7qQo9Vp3rQweP287VmMMS1VWrPKgn6MHvhyZXoBgyC_Var2NXV2RUHXz5GxQALRX9Kt2gI8GsJVVFWCbjDQG37DXXswU4XBImBB6PLUedU/s1600/DownloadedFile-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipdscNtHb-Hra5WsQklnLpQnTdmdCyZfyRD7qQo9Vp3rQweP287VmMMS1VWrPKgn6MHvhyZXoBgyC_Var2NXV2RUHXz5GxQALRX9Kt2gI8GsJVVFWCbjDQG37DXXswU4XBImBB6PLUedU/s1600/DownloadedFile-1.jpeg" /></span></span></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Herring hearse cream, dot repair sleep tout ha bet innate Goal Deluxe sander pear rents sup.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ream embark ids: Led slipping beers lye.</span></span></div></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
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</span></span></div>Can't read it<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">?</span></span> Drag the "?" to the the "*"<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: arial, helvetica, tahoma; font-size: small;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 12px;"><strong>Goal Deluxe Sander Tree Beers</strong></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 12px;"><div style="text-align: center;"><i>(Goldielocks and the Three Bears)</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><strong><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><strong>Won sap pun a tine dare washer ladle gull culled Goal Deluxe zoo leave din dissenter offer lodge forced widow mutter sander fodder.</strong></span></div></strong><i><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><i>(Once upon a time there was a little girl called Goldielocks who lived in the center of a large forest with her mother and father.)</i></span></div></i><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><strong><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><strong>Ones window ladle gull and/or pear rents swear aweigh, dare hop penned topaz buy tree beers -- ham other beer, ha dotty beer, inner ladle bay be beer.</strong></span></div></strong><i><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><i>(Once when the little girl and her parents were away, there happened to pass by three bears -- a mother bear, a daddy bear and a little baby bear.)</i></span></div></i><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><strong><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><strong>Sea ingot dough row pin, bay be beer win tinfoil ode buys modern fodder. Dot repairs wondered true Goal Deluxe souse: day eight parch; day satin cheers; sand atlas day fellow slip into tree bids.</strong></span></div></strong><i><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><i>(Seeing the door open, baby bear went in followed by his mother and father. The three bears wandered through Goldielock's house: they ate porridge, they sat in chairs, and at last they fell asleep into three beds.)</i></span></div></i><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><strong><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><strong>Wend Goal Deluxe inner mud rend fodder god hum, daze awe sun thin whirrs rung.</strong></span></div></strong><i><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><i>(When Goldielocks and her mother and father got home, they saw something was wrong.)</i></span></div></i><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><strong><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><strong>"Sum bodice bin neat tender parch," sad Goal Deluxe, "an day aided awl! Handsome bodice bins it ten end doughs cheers!"</strong></span></div></strong><i><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><i>("Some body's been eating the porridge," said Goldielocks, and they ate it all! And somebody's been sitting in those chairs!")</i></span></div></i><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><strong><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><strong>Gong Hindu turbid run, Goal Deluxe led otters cream: "Sum bodice bin slipping inner bids anthers till dare!"</strong></span></div></strong><i><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><i>(Going into her bedroom, Godlielocks let out a scream: "Somebody's been sleeping in the beds and they're still there!")</i></span></div></i><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><strong><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><strong>Herring hearse cream, dot repair sleep tout ha bet innate Goal Deluxe sander pear rents sup.</strong></span></div></strong><i><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><i>(Hearing her scream, the three bears lept out of bed and ate Goldielocks and her parents up.)</i></span></div></i><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><strong><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><strong>Ream embark ids: Led slipping beers lye.</strong> </span></div></strong><i><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><i>(Remember kids: Let sleeping bears lie.)***<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">*</span></span></i></span></div></i></span></span>Mick Brennanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09878482559394566227noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797737765724591416.post-53178727079254737232011-02-27T13:51:00.000-05:002011-02-27T13:51:53.399-05:00Revenge of Kulkukan<div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfNvXquYJ1cwYP9nscwWUIVufj-3l7ucBE-k1DJgmbyoPA5APaT8MRnT9R9d4_SwDFPoGGRIr17ZpP8wGtUu6D4PlURzfr5uP_tL9op0GcPX8VQdUoBwJoRAI210k856kFVFF1CSH1DWQ/s1600/P1080696.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" l6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfNvXquYJ1cwYP9nscwWUIVufj-3l7ucBE-k1DJgmbyoPA5APaT8MRnT9R9d4_SwDFPoGGRIr17ZpP8wGtUu6D4PlURzfr5uP_tL9op0GcPX8VQdUoBwJoRAI210k856kFVFF1CSH1DWQ/s200/P1080696.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"></span><span style="font-size: large;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span></span><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: large;">We were slightly attacked yesterday. Our aimless wandering led us deep into the Tulum Pueblo. In retrospect it may not have been a good idea rubbernecking around in a bright red, shiny Ford "Party." We were not that far from a major highway and several huge, new, modern developments in that area. </span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiANHu7IzSMpb9-s3fUd4R-rbfMi9Tuuq7ZxJwEP-oiAul6QQoaC7AvK7dVRUgXpkfzhzc-SB_EzCQPJNS8Q8iK-j98f6yhXxcTAf2MBBvKyLwD3ib31DAmg2econmRw9RlySAnbISJreI/s1600/everards-trip_1170959160_20_mexican_cemetery_img_0148.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" l6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiANHu7IzSMpb9-s3fUd4R-rbfMi9Tuuq7ZxJwEP-oiAul6QQoaC7AvK7dVRUgXpkfzhzc-SB_EzCQPJNS8Q8iK-j98f6yhXxcTAf2MBBvKyLwD3ib31DAmg2econmRw9RlySAnbISJreI/s320/everards-trip_1170959160_20_mexican_cemetery_img_0148.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: large;">There is a New Orleans looking cemetery back there. It is made of natural stone and cinder blocks and painted bright colors. At first it gave the appearance of an amusement park or some kind of morbid storybook land instead of a repose for the remains of the dearly departed. </span></div><span style="font-size: large;"></span><span style="font-size: large;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUyufSe3if6quDboFxAz94SLCRBEzFguJwwLs-X3mMBJ8GYQFV424d9WTx-ooKHUaLI7y1MXLSFZHyi8vMbUvm7dPbhZ7-ONGQnqFlks4LlQYWkzKDMLjGkkftbpVGL6qylQCkOkN1TRI/s1600/5119924671_1dd6c03bb4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" l6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUyufSe3if6quDboFxAz94SLCRBEzFguJwwLs-X3mMBJ8GYQFV424d9WTx-ooKHUaLI7y1MXLSFZHyi8vMbUvm7dPbhZ7-ONGQnqFlks4LlQYWkzKDMLjGkkftbpVGL6qylQCkOkN1TRI/s320/5119924671_1dd6c03bb4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">We thought everything was cool and that the locals were totally used to gringos cruising their turf. That's when I suddenly understood exactly where we were. We were in the hood. I had an immediate comprehesion like the feeling the captain of the Titanic had when he first saw the Iceburg. We shouldn't be right here, right now.</div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6QOlA0RPPF17JWNpUDANtgc5l5WR5P-LNRzRld2SMHslAWZltz0HGa2UIsVQW3fnWfp-MRpt3-mceAJQsPCvxL2f5YEd0cEIUwV2GVYovVwCahIabRmV84bDEZ3U_r3ZYcfL3W-0B82I/s1600/IMG_1728.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" l6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6QOlA0RPPF17JWNpUDANtgc5l5WR5P-LNRzRld2SMHslAWZltz0HGa2UIsVQW3fnWfp-MRpt3-mceAJQsPCvxL2f5YEd0cEIUwV2GVYovVwCahIabRmV84bDEZ3U_r3ZYcfL3W-0B82I/s320/IMG_1728.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: large;">As we passed by two little Mayan kids standing in front of a squalid hovel, one of the little bastards chucked a rock into the side of our car. He must have been trying to break a window but it hit the metal with quite a loud bang and put a little dent below the back door handle. I took off at a high rate of speed but P wanted to stay and fight. First, it would be almost impossible to catch an 11 year old kid in his own neighborhood and what are you gonna do even if you did? Besides all that, our vehicle would become a stationary target and they might be able to take better aim at the glass.</span></div><span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: large;">Yankis go home! The descendants of the noble, savage, Mayans are increasingly angry at having their butts kicked by successive invaders over the last 750 years and are starting to attempt a political comeback. The Olmec tried to make a go of a civilization, they were conquered brutally by the Mayans who eventually fell to the Aztecs through political attrition. The Spanish came here and destroyed the fragile Aztec coalition in about 6 months. Now the Americans and the Canadians are kicking the economic hell out of the Mexican natives by buying up all the beachfront property and making their own ancient town much too expensive for them to inhabit. They have launched a feeble attempt to organise and are now trying to fight back. They even had a hero. This guy is an aging Che Guevara, Malcolm X type who looks disturbingly like Kim Jong-il without the hair dye. He appeared at rallies incognito then suddenly dons a wrestling mask and starts inciting the crowd. He has lightened up a lot in the last five years and rumor has it that the former revolutionary now makes a pretty good living running special classes instructing maids how to create whimisical towel animals in the new beachfront resorts. </span></div><span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: large;">Anyway, one of the little turds hit us with a rock.</span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ElBqxhqp4K-9u1p7N2ociazh6XUslGs_uqcrkhtmqeJWwCTnYjnMFVNclniUCmCXR1MlcZNGr1H1n0FHyz4NnjWoAiycBOFrXnzIbCKB71GtRHqi6RnxTNpMZwsAymz39Kx4OtyZaTw/s1600/405903587sBacsh_fs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" l6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ElBqxhqp4K-9u1p7N2ociazh6XUslGs_uqcrkhtmqeJWwCTnYjnMFVNclniUCmCXR1MlcZNGr1H1n0FHyz4NnjWoAiycBOFrXnzIbCKB71GtRHqi6RnxTNpMZwsAymz39Kx4OtyZaTw/s320/405903587sBacsh_fs.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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</div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span>Mick Brennanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09878482559394566227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797737765724591416.post-86349769466352161842011-02-06T12:54:00.002-05:002011-07-05T17:52:19.652-04:00Mexican Car do-over<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The car deal at the Playa Ford dealer fell through. It wasn't our fault. We checked with the Mexicans who were with us. Nobody asked for a deposit, nobody wanted to go "Write it up" or anything like that. They sold it out from under P and she was Furious about it. Making P feel powerless is not a good idea. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_93ICfRrMv_xjvCJ4kg6eAavu84ChSmnFlNrvpppmquDRQnkr69jSYNgHOHvtVo14fO0cMIt5Mmepk3AQ_IQ6DrYK94OssMWLrYOfr8L70sOUSNuhqe9MxbONt6DCutYEubZAgDqN_pA/s1600/P1080696.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_93ICfRrMv_xjvCJ4kg6eAavu84ChSmnFlNrvpppmquDRQnkr69jSYNgHOHvtVo14fO0cMIt5Mmepk3AQ_IQ6DrYK94OssMWLrYOfr8L70sOUSNuhqe9MxbONt6DCutYEubZAgDqN_pA/s320/P1080696.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Immediately after the debacle at Playa Ford L took us up to Cancun. We went to the auto dealer row. It was just like Playa, the only place with a Usado section was Ford. P found a little car she liked and negotiated a deal.</span></div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">P was now determined to have a car. She was on the phone to the states. Credit union, credit card company and some other places. Armed with information, L and K we returned to Cancun on Monday. They had saved the car for us and had even moved it toward the back of the lot away from the street. Now we are pretty used to Mexico but the rate of the sale was maddening! Okay P decided to use a card rather than use an electronic transfer. Good thing. As soon as they had taken the card to the cajero, returned to have P sign the form, schlepped the signed form back to the Cajero (who may have been safely sequestered in a bunker deep in the rabbit warren of offices and storerooms), they came back with an official receipt. That was when they informed us that P could not legally licence</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> the car! P's ears got red, L started talking at a very high rate of speed and the three ladies were all waving their arms and pointing at the paper. They somehow reached a "legal" solution about how to transfer the ownership of the car to P. That solution involves her getting an FM3 visa! That solved, we asked for "la placas papel" or a "permito temporado" so we could drive home. Not quite yet. We had to come back at 5:00 just to get a receipt! So here we were in Cancun, around 11:30am with 5 hours to kill. Had she used a wire transfer it could have taken up to a week.</span></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Bring on the Hotel Zone. We decided to go get some lunch. Where to go? Margaritaville of course. We had our cheeseburgers in paradise and a $5 milk shake (Pulp Fiction and Jimmy Buffett are strange combination but, It's Mexico) it was too early after eating to return to Ford so Costco was our next stop. P was shopping, L put on her glamorus sunglasses, found a couch display and took a nap. K and I enjoyed racing office chairs that somebody had thoughtfully left in the isle.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">By some miracle the papers were ready when we returned to the dealer and they are, may, possibly, perhaps, maybe, going to deliver it, with placas, insurance and tenencia (that may or may not mean tax sticker) to the condo on Thursday. The sales lady has a FaceBook page with photos. No kidding.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzWH65Y8-9tFdgAnXRYVjh-Lc4hZ9WzOZTSwmWzbshO5mo1HJmcp3bwrjM8PffcQDl-Lt2m3EWvvoReJVakGj_M8DZmMjl4z80HR17YViNnfBcKkNR99Vq3wQmBSF0m_tWG5S5d3AB1Ng/s1600/P1130845.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzWH65Y8-9tFdgAnXRYVjh-Lc4hZ9WzOZTSwmWzbshO5mo1HJmcp3bwrjM8PffcQDl-Lt2m3EWvvoReJVakGj_M8DZmMjl4z80HR17YViNnfBcKkNR99Vq3wQmBSF0m_tWG5S5d3AB1Ng/s200/P1130845.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkLV9q2ymfzRBWBsawfZt6aRYHs_Wyy77y2lgtceC3YMJadu2DTEQUz0Q_0GzJ1Gdh4PQCZjGQyDQncKUeMaCxtRSzoVbGcHi-rcr1nbDWWgeLo2r5ffUw99m8wYwcPgFUJNRW2SqBrYM/s1600/165426_10150119828427873_697412872_7616813_2843842_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="190" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkLV9q2ymfzRBWBsawfZt6aRYHs_Wyy77y2lgtceC3YMJadu2DTEQUz0Q_0GzJ1Gdh4PQCZjGQyDQncKUeMaCxtRSzoVbGcHi-rcr1nbDWWgeLo2r5ffUw99m8wYwcPgFUJNRW2SqBrYM/s200/165426_10150119828427873_697412872_7616813_2843842_n.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSwKElQ04IK4eqdSjMHGH4zq_VEWlAurOo53NTF0D-H72v_f1FJwyKc0GJ-RFNx3mjPWPiGt-ulczr5RtSlhVLTEhJwBhDLklbYWU_9cSS4UN9_R3Up5JGlbgjtjgYsZrWFKDG5LLwgTg/s1600/4942_115717017872_697412872_2818866_4472487_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSwKElQ04IK4eqdSjMHGH4zq_VEWlAurOo53NTF0D-H72v_f1FJwyKc0GJ-RFNx3mjPWPiGt-ulczr5RtSlhVLTEhJwBhDLklbYWU_9cSS4UN9_R3Up5JGlbgjtjgYsZrWFKDG5LLwgTg/s400/4942_115717017872_697412872_2818866_4472487_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The contrast to buying a car, or any business transaction, in Mexico to a similar one in the states is just astounding. It is almost as if they are designed to make it difficult to spend large amounts of money. 61 people have to sign, initial and stamp lots of forms and carbon (actual carbon paper) copies. </span></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">So today the locksmith (another story) is coming by, the maid will be here and the FM3 professional form wrangler is coming with the realtor. I am going to work on my tan by the pool until they all get here. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"></span> </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">This is more like it!!! Happy day! </span></div>Mick Brennanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09878482559394566227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797737765724591416.post-1329647184028251382011-01-23T10:12:00.001-05:002011-01-23T10:16:40.899-05:00Mexican Car<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: large;">Wednesday was a terribly humbling experience. We are trying to buy a car. The dealers at Chevy, Nissan, Honda, Toyota, Dodge, and VW do not even sell used cars here. They only sell new. P was employed by a major international auto manufacturer so she has some experience in the business and we could easily get a new one. But for a new car to sit unused 7 months of the year would be extravagant and beyond our means. We are looking for usado or semi-nuevo. So we made the rounds with a chartered taxista acting as our guide and translator. Nobody here sells used cars? The Dodge guys talked so fast and with a different type of syntax that I didn't understand one, single, word, of what they were saying. Not one word mind you. Maybe I need some Spanish lessons!!! Only the Ford dealer has a used car lot. The Sales Lady there is a real stereotype. She was wearing way too much makeup. Her tight jeans and 5" platform sandals totally accentuated her ample J-Low, ba-donk-a-donk. To counterbalance the rearward thrust of that derriere she had shoved her boobies way up under her throat and each button across her bosom strained against the pressure. Even with glasses on I avoided getting directly in front of her. If one of those buttons gave way a fellow could easily lose an eye. She did the entire car salesman act. She winked at me and at our Taxi pilot/guide while grinning broadly to display teeth whitened by a home bleaching kit. She made sure she bent way over to write on her desk and show us her two outstanding features as well as those of the several cars that she had to sell. She even allowed P to examine her computer screen. That was it. P somehow picked out a nice little car just by looking at a 6 page list of numbers on a screen. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: large;"></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: large;">We needed to check out some of the used car lots in the edjio (hood) too. So we pressed on with our intrepid taxista. Out away from the tourist area we went. These cars were very used and very expensive! It seems they were the kind of dealers who have the Buy Here, Pay Here kind of car lots. The cars were way overpriced and they were terrible. Pat was a little interested in a vintage VW Bug. I got her away from it by saying that a snake was in it.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: large;">Back to the Ford store, Hootchie Mama offered to have two cars sent down from Cancun. The one car Pat really liked the look of (inventory numbers) arrived quickly. It is actually very nice. They were servicing it yesterday. We have an appointment to test drive it Saturday at 11am. Pat is working out the intricacies of a wire transfer of fundage! </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: large;">When we returned for our test drive appointment they had sold the car! P is now on a mission! </span></div>Mick Brennanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09878482559394566227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797737765724591416.post-80018726988760547512010-12-30T22:24:00.002-05:002010-12-30T22:26:34.416-05:00Incident in Playacar<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">At about 7:37 this morning we were catching up on the news. FOX is all we can get in Mexico so it's only one side of everything. I was enjoying some delicious, nutritious, breakfast pastries in the kitchen and looking at FaceBook. P was sipping her coffee con crema on the couch and commenting on a story about a ski lift collapse in Maine. The doors to the three balconies and the warm Caribbean breeze was gently flowing through the condo whisking away all remnants of our unseasonably cold weather from the last few days. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: large;">Suddenly P let out a shriek and leaped to her feet. A micro second later a combination of sounds assaulted the morning still of our tropical retreat. The bedroom door, caught by the breeze, had slammed shut on the last 1 1/2 inch of a Siamese cat's tail. He spun his wheels to free himself but left a sizable hunk of fur remaining in the door. Siamese has retreated under the bed to recoup his dignity and to adjust to what I believe to be a permanent crook in his rearmost appendage.</span>Mick Brennanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09878482559394566227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797737765724591416.post-43821874123310356282010-11-12T15:16:00.001-05:002010-11-23T18:11:01.989-05:00How to go away for the winter.<div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixbG55FkHh_kGLDvjVGVEsB5cbcEj_QnSqe2OC9Phqzhyphenhyphens-kmaw8c5-qh56N-aTeGpwNImGtfLbwpn21SwOLhNJ-7V8qqS_9Cx5Yb-rIKgZKz66CWkq13OUW0mM-bwtrToPA7SKgobt2Q/s1600/151925-17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixbG55FkHh_kGLDvjVGVEsB5cbcEj_QnSqe2OC9Phqzhyphenhyphens-kmaw8c5-qh56N-aTeGpwNImGtfLbwpn21SwOLhNJ-7V8qqS_9Cx5Yb-rIKgZKz66CWkq13OUW0mM-bwtrToPA7SKgobt2Q/s200/151925-17.jpg" width="200" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Start tanning. Get a decent base to ward off the effects of the tropical sun. El Sol is very strong in the tropics. It is totally unbelievable how many people we see with debilitating sunburns. They can't be thinking too clearly. Why spend a few thousand bucks and get crispy on the first day. Fake Bake! </span></span><br />
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</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1XZw2xISJHFhtz1JU4dcoCnd5hfv6d4Jl2DD4e4n7MnD4AvqHKx34jeIoRGrLEjcIQZ69krcEu1R5_j5snci762eA9XJBP0JPuL2Z4BT2mW_B_cOdSRLhHhox_lD0y6i19ldnSFL_ljA/s1600/EnterpriseRent-a-Car.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1XZw2xISJHFhtz1JU4dcoCnd5hfv6d4Jl2DD4e4n7MnD4AvqHKx34jeIoRGrLEjcIQZ69krcEu1R5_j5snci762eA9XJBP0JPuL2Z4BT2mW_B_cOdSRLhHhox_lD0y6i19ldnSFL_ljA/s320/EnterpriseRent-a-Car.jpg" width="320" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Figure out how to get to the airport. lately the easiest and cheapest has been to rent a car one way, leave it at PHL and return the same way. This year it is a little different. We need to find a rent a car near Amish Country. We might have rented a horse and buggy easier. We found good rates at a regional airport near our home. But they aren't open on Saturday. The two day rental is still cheaper than other places so we took that. Asking your friends for a ride means that you will eventually have to return the favor. Letting your kids know where you are going means they might show up and join you. So, rent a car.</span></span><br />
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</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ5n-QuyG6DRhLTyAoIcXiZYlVyIrVBk25oSYfsxGvmVS4k0PS2vH8YW6e0JrbYkE0HN2QZOlN8fzPdxE_H5aECM6isBgizg3ZkGE2RTwcaNMxZBP8qiTAIIhQwW4XHuLeNW4ihTMF170/s1600/pet-travel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="117" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ5n-QuyG6DRhLTyAoIcXiZYlVyIrVBk25oSYfsxGvmVS4k0PS2vH8YW6e0JrbYkE0HN2QZOlN8fzPdxE_H5aECM6isBgizg3ZkGE2RTwcaNMxZBP8qiTAIIhQwW4XHuLeNW4ihTMF170/s200/pet-travel.jpg" width="200" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Airline tickets, were easy this year because we used frequent flyer miles. That was a great deal. We always check how much for an upgrade. The first class seats were exactly the same amount of miles as coach! Great deal from US Airways. Except the cats cost $125, each cat, each way. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHDogbOnaPGK3XfMIwV4LXaX3nmuPr5ey1EKfhPzT8M1yB1KAb8MnWxmadVu4FakIToTBkKaHIApnO8PrL0rAbvs-nwTJM3UTVtpsZU_F-3UKu1bpIWBLQPGNLiC72ixgKtESRUhSsAzY/s1600/images-2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHDogbOnaPGK3XfMIwV4LXaX3nmuPr5ey1EKfhPzT8M1yB1KAb8MnWxmadVu4FakIToTBkKaHIApnO8PrL0rAbvs-nwTJM3UTVtpsZU_F-3UKu1bpIWBLQPGNLiC72ixgKtESRUhSsAzY/s320/images-2.jpeg" width="320" /></a><br />
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To get from CUN to the condo, we decided to rent another car. By the time we would haul all our luggage (including a George Foreman Patio Grill), cats, Christmas lights, chocolate vodka and other crap to an overpriced airport taxi, private shuttle or (our usual) ADO bus it is easier and less expensive to just rent a car. We have learned to wave down a porter to carry our stuff through customs and out to the curb. We won't need to mess around with taxis once we get to the condo. We can use the car to go to the grocery, Home Depot, Sam's Club, restaurants and all the other running around we will need to do. We rented a Mexican car for a week for around $200. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"> Once our supplies are laid in</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"> we can sit back, hunker down and start to enjoy the weather. Simple as that.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Feliz Navidad and Ano Nuevo amigos.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
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</span></span></div>Mick Brennanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09878482559394566227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797737765724591416.post-68522645750289831352010-10-22T15:25:00.001-04:002010-10-22T19:34:13.198-04:00Waiting for Mexico<div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcUrCISn0_x-DYznUldAM2z5PImpc7Vn4Rj3x92llBM_Xd6hQG_t0_qWirlgGScMZBlwNlQn7OAZWqWbBkqHdv9tFAoS003azTZBOGAiFx95u5W6pRIJS2pcEcQJakMPPNLNjjRgQnm6Y/s1600/o51logo.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><b style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></b><i></i></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcUrCISn0_x-DYznUldAM2z5PImpc7Vn4Rj3x92llBM_Xd6hQG_t0_qWirlgGScMZBlwNlQn7OAZWqWbBkqHdv9tFAoS003azTZBOGAiFx95u5W6pRIJS2pcEcQJakMPPNLNjjRgQnm6Y/s1600/o51logo.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcUrCISn0_x-DYznUldAM2z5PImpc7Vn4Rj3x92llBM_Xd6hQG_t0_qWirlgGScMZBlwNlQn7OAZWqWbBkqHdv9tFAoS003azTZBOGAiFx95u5W6pRIJS2pcEcQJakMPPNLNjjRgQnm6Y/s200/o51logo.gif" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Right now that is how many days we have left in the United States this year.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWJ2l3VairSlBrN4k5NPYlhxzc4BGRaj2Y4dSFUH4skFU7VdoP1PuHYO-OkWYDOxjexE1qp5yt5_z5G1SYFD4ndWZ6Q8U6_pYa7WWJx8rsz_27vJKOqEmZ5G70p7kEHcSmbSR_xYj25kg/s1600/PA150094.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWJ2l3VairSlBrN4k5NPYlhxzc4BGRaj2Y4dSFUH4skFU7VdoP1PuHYO-OkWYDOxjexE1qp5yt5_z5G1SYFD4ndWZ6Q8U6_pYa7WWJx8rsz_27vJKOqEmZ5G70p7kEHcSmbSR_xYj25kg/s320/PA150094.JPG" width="320" /></span></span></span></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">The leaves are starting to turn and fall.</span></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
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</span></span> </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">The water lines are blown out and the pink antifreeze is ready to be injected into the camper pipes. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">The Hawaiian shirt with Santa Claus has suddenly reappeared after a 2 year hiatus in the moving crate. The cat travel containers are on display so the livestock doesn't freak. That was the big deal last year, flying into Cancun with two cats was a learning experience to say the least. But we did figure it out on the way home. Just assume the attitude of the guy on the commercials. You know, that guy. He is the most interesting man in the world. Just start giving orders and they all think you know what you are doing and give you more service than you request. Also a 50 peso note can't hurt.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span> </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijUSYU5E1yYyxeb7r8fOs9nqcOPKb3XLGdkrBB0z0OrZ52crHGLxUAt5rKkPBwzgsisa3g4Wh5jaAK7j3wlw0VNG0XfLFb-3VBbi9taI4gaTgQJlV7xv0TE1WNwO_KK2gnLu0ltoXXKbs/s1600/images-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijUSYU5E1yYyxeb7r8fOs9nqcOPKb3XLGdkrBB0z0OrZ52crHGLxUAt5rKkPBwzgsisa3g4Wh5jaAK7j3wlw0VNG0XfLFb-3VBbi9taI4gaTgQJlV7xv0TE1WNwO_KK2gnLu0ltoXXKbs/s1600/images-1.jpeg" /></span></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> We are getting way better with this trip. Forget trying to haul anything around by yourself. That will be especially true this year because we are taking a George Foreman Grill with us. Brand new, in the box, </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">patio style, stand up, grease reducing, electric grill for the condo. We found it on sale and they are totally missing in our section of Mexico. So we had to buy it. Aduana has a policy of allowing 10 times the amount of stuff into the country at Christmas. We are bringing </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">it. And the cats. And the netbook. And my Medicine. Good thing we are sitting in the front. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span> </span></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTbY34rQ_TKzn3tGCZ2I-mVJf7KDRJBxn7RjzrBpDxQhTrg4Pj-bOY6tOLQGNqUZPwynyfTazLze5PJ3jYOwgACXGBgZ3kgdgx58wXOTeFJtZ9kYi0QASTxlmQLBQK9ZHCsulEiskhr3s/s1600/images-2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTbY34rQ_TKzn3tGCZ2I-mVJf7KDRJBxn7RjzrBpDxQhTrg4Pj-bOY6tOLQGNqUZPwynyfTazLze5PJ3jYOwgACXGBgZ3kgdgx58wXOTeFJtZ9kYi0QASTxlmQLBQK9ZHCsulEiskhr3s/s200/images-2.jpeg" width="200" /></span></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTbY34rQ_TKzn3tGCZ2I-mVJf7KDRJBxn7RjzrBpDxQhTrg4Pj-bOY6tOLQGNqUZPwynyfTazLze5PJ3jYOwgACXGBgZ3kgdgx58wXOTeFJtZ9kYi0QASTxlmQLBQK9ZHCsulEiskhr3s/s1600/images-2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span"></span></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I love first class. The service starts at the curb. The baggage handlers treat you different as soon as they see your first class designation. We will have a completely (short) line to check in. No extra fee for our foreman grill. Our luggage and our grill will get festooned with a sticker designating it as Special.</span></span></span></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span> </span></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdLLL4n8EVRMet_SLNVhmmOp-Ccf-AEm5je5jx3OcYcbEnMp0NhrWKLZ1MptlDE9cWVh5gkosyfmK6cKcNvSQC_ILjnn6wszwRnhKFwRwIlhBqmSrhu0TlAkIMY3sTmFz5bE2HB7K2jhQ/s1600/images-3.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="193" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdLLL4n8EVRMet_SLNVhmmOp-Ccf-AEm5je5jx3OcYcbEnMp0NhrWKLZ1MptlDE9cWVh5gkosyfmK6cKcNvSQC_ILjnn6wszwRnhKFwRwIlhBqmSrhu0TlAkIMY3sTmFz5bE2HB7K2jhQ/s200/images-3.jpeg" width="200" /></span></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdLLL4n8EVRMet_SLNVhmmOp-Ccf-AEm5je5jx3OcYcbEnMp0NhrWKLZ1MptlDE9cWVh5gkosyfmK6cKcNvSQC_ILjnn6wszwRnhKFwRwIlhBqmSrhu0TlAkIMY3sTmFz5bE2HB7K2jhQ/s1600/images-3.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span"></span></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">We don't even have to sit and wait out there in the main concourse with the other people. We will hide in the first class lounge. They actually come and get you and surreptitiously escort you to the airplane. We will be chugging our first cocktail behind the privacy curtain while other passengers are jockeying for position and trying to cram their crap into the overheads in the back. Up front we will have plenty of warm towels and snacks served in little baskets about once an hour. Our private potty is still fresh after 3 hours and there is never a line to use it. The best part about first is the seats. They are 30% larger and recline flat. NICE! </span></span></span></span></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span> </span></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK_QvI4Kuoc8Pz85dJ-l89T1mR09oV-O_YcYFPCpSKxB1_p1jiyZngMhjGlg1sIPhyphenhyphenhd6ub2CrPQHG2kxObjG3WfJn2GU56vddCcTKya8myWKIbu0TlIMzZEDhrzvNIB8hUX6uTfhCWww/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK_QvI4Kuoc8Pz85dJ-l89T1mR09oV-O_YcYFPCpSKxB1_p1jiyZngMhjGlg1sIPhyphenhyphenhd6ub2CrPQHG2kxObjG3WfJn2GU56vddCcTKya8myWKIbu0TlIMzZEDhrzvNIB8hUX6uTfhCWww/s1600/images.jpeg" /></span></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK_QvI4Kuoc8Pz85dJ-l89T1mR09oV-O_YcYFPCpSKxB1_p1jiyZngMhjGlg1sIPhyphenhyphenhd6ub2CrPQHG2kxObjG3WfJn2GU56vddCcTKya8myWKIbu0TlIMzZEDhrzvNIB8hUX6uTfhCWww/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span"></span></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">The service doesn't stop once you arrive. We will walk off the plane as three or five cabin monkeys block the rest of the 287 passengers jostling for their stuff in the overhead. Our luggage comes off before everybody else. Stay thirsty my friend. Travel heavy.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Next, How to go to Playa the easy way.</span></span></span></div>Mick Brennanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09878482559394566227noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797737765724591416.post-30053648976808362582010-10-01T00:45:00.000-04:002010-10-01T00:45:28.366-04:00Zopilote<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><div style="font-family: Tahoma; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"></div><div style="font-family: Tahoma; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivToy2F9xXv0rqPgrpTMi28kM9koN47_o40szP-pPg8QfZh04rotRWKrbVS6oHnY41CM1AMpCTddZjUbUpmwfXPPVx1ltk95-apZuhEPusWV218_bWZp1ny_C5Gk0fH8d8-3FqTTFC4vA/s1600/images-2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivToy2F9xXv0rqPgrpTMi28kM9koN47_o40szP-pPg8QfZh04rotRWKrbVS6oHnY41CM1AMpCTddZjUbUpmwfXPPVx1ltk95-apZuhEPusWV218_bWZp1ny_C5Gk0fH8d8-3FqTTFC4vA/s1600/images-2.jpeg" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Traveling west across the Yucatan Peninsula in a rented Jeep with the top off. This car had TOURIST written on it in big red letters. It might have said AVIS but it is essentially the same thing. We chose to take the Cuota or toll road because of the lack of decisions and fewer obstacles. We were frequently amazed at the appearance of a person pedaling a three wheeled vehicle (two wheels in front) along the shoulder seemingly in the total middle of nowhere. I have since looked at maps and Google Earth and there is nothing there. </span></span></div></span><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> So here we were heading across the scrubby 20 foot tall forest at about 120. In American that's about 72. We had the road pretty much to ourselves. In the distance ahead we could see moving objects in the curb lane. Whatever it was seemed to be hopping back and forth across that half of the highway. As we approached the scene it became evident that the animals directly in our path were birds. Big birds. They were having a feast on some kind of road kill. </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX5_DzTVlnHG5gnfsZBZUsXw02SuT_1lvFfFFsGuDy016du41J11pH_dnCJc59vf24nXpvR0KJMUat8gfZbmL1McIhOYdBEmyKcvx8kWACUK6S5bpDlFMXXc3vGz1XZEdcrKC0m9D2rQo/s1600/images-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX5_DzTVlnHG5gnfsZBZUsXw02SuT_1lvFfFFsGuDy016du41J11pH_dnCJc59vf24nXpvR0KJMUat8gfZbmL1McIhOYdBEmyKcvx8kWACUK6S5bpDlFMXXc3vGz1XZEdcrKC0m9D2rQo/s1600/images-1.jpeg" /></span></span></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">P was looking off into the distance at this vulture buffet as I moved over to the passing lane to avoid the mess. We were still about a half mile away when one of these primitive bastards decided to take flight. The biggest one hopped a few times toward us, flapped his 6 foot wingspan once, twice and began veering into our lane. The other creatures had stopped eating to watch their giant friend take off. WHAM. We clobbered him. He rolled across the windshield and blew up and over the jeep. She ducked, I already had my head down by the steering wheel. We were both trying to avoid the red shower of blood and guts. The whooshing sound of feathers blowing the wrong way and screeching claws like chalk on a slate assaulted our ears as the bird tumbled by only inches over our heads. She turned to watch the carnage on the road behind us while I looked in the mirrors. The other birds wasted no time splitting into two groups. They were feeding on our boy before he even stopped rolling. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">One wiper was a little bent. That's it, one bent wiper arm. One recycled vulture. We were not covered by the half digested offal upon which they had been feeding or the resulting excrement which should have been exponentially worse than any seagull guano. No mist of ultra fine blood particles resultant from our high speed collision on our clothes, up our noses, on our teeth and RayBan sunglasses. Easy Peasy. All done. A clean get away. Just keep going, pressing on across the flat limestone based gnarled jungle towards the site of the meteor impact that instantly assassinated all the dominant species on the planet millions of years ago and toward a big, frozen drink with fresh fruit and a cherry enjoyed under the thatched roof of a Mexican beach bar.</span></span></div>Mick Brennanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09878482559394566227noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797737765724591416.post-73036813305961262272010-09-13T23:08:00.002-04:002010-09-14T11:55:06.632-04:00Assateague Island<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">We finally made it back to Assateague. The bugs weren't too bad at all. Our friends arrived shortly after we got there. After a nice night we were up and at the beach early. After a perfect sunny day we all decided to head for dinner and a walk on the O.C. MD boards. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">The next day we watched a couple set up a brand new, teeny tiny pop up. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">The rangers were very specific during the check in process at the campground office. No booze at all (except in a motorhome) or coolers outside. They also had prominently displayed on the bulletin board in the office, horrifying photos of several little girls with sweet pink ribbons in their hair. The girls had been bitten by horses. Each horse tooth mark was dripping blood. It is amazing how well horse bites show up on the freshly sunburned skin of a 12 year old girl. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Several snapshots in full color were also posted of a horse, dead or dying. He had been hit by a car. Very strange how only the whites of a horse eye showed after being clobbered to death by an automobile. Posted directly next to each other the photos are otherwise unrelated. The mother of the kids who were brutally attacked did not run down the pony. The volunteers actually seemed surprised at the question. "What?" I needed to repeat. "Is this the horse that bit these girls?" I pointed at the carcass of the two tone animal. He needed an X in the pupils to look more bizarre.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">On the third day we saw 3 horses across the street, at the tiny pop up site . The horse trio was a burglary crew. One just ate grass and distracted the people. While the other one opened coolers and feasted on the contents. The third watched out for Mr. Ranger.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
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</span> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">The owners of the pop up were going berserk. The guy went into the camper and tried to scare off the horses. The dude somehow felt protected by a gossamer layer of nylon mesh screening. He rattled, waved and shouted at the marauders without effect.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
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</span> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJiL2gzVYha3pojdqNVytePcHfDqUlzH3_X4R58X0APq5l6PdaDEXgDPXquO2tq4DnwbL3wDed2hYQFW5dx-00vAAryoZN-zgfluI6nowAHUkmeGqEH75tr90bInDTKDUVjIO8MVHVCwQ/s1600/303_1225.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJiL2gzVYha3pojdqNVytePcHfDqUlzH3_X4R58X0APq5l6PdaDEXgDPXquO2tq4DnwbL3wDed2hYQFW5dx-00vAAryoZN-zgfluI6nowAHUkmeGqEH75tr90bInDTKDUVjIO8MVHVCwQ/s640/303_1225.JPG" width="640" /></span></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">The horse spotted the cooler and went to town.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
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</span> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrDtbFfv7oHTqQwsMmcQMRkLW1UsniyZu6J9y6Dn7PWHs8EWXh5lhfEb4uHC5D7rbmldln0Jw5a7qD1IMgx_u7wj_NcQTnQy2AbK06ZXVnGYEaAObt7a30xGfv2s9S_yNjqACTDEMac1g/s1600/303_1229.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrDtbFfv7oHTqQwsMmcQMRkLW1UsniyZu6J9y6Dn7PWHs8EWXh5lhfEb4uHC5D7rbmldln0Jw5a7qD1IMgx_u7wj_NcQTnQy2AbK06ZXVnGYEaAObt7a30xGfv2s9S_yNjqACTDEMac1g/s640/303_1229.JPG" width="640" /></span></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Dude was freaking! So was the lady.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
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</span> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnUQEOQNaOMbl1j_-_M2p1TZATaeJA6d0jhRf5RlJxt5eSHEzqIkCJlndP1Dxq57ooz6pfM9QLq4VTjHmJYdMiJiRcfe7_jlbCww_PhdLXKZufbhlknnG4Mey8AeBuWkNibbQGz8jZCaE/s1600/303_1227.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnUQEOQNaOMbl1j_-_M2p1TZATaeJA6d0jhRf5RlJxt5eSHEzqIkCJlndP1Dxq57ooz6pfM9QLq4VTjHmJYdMiJiRcfe7_jlbCww_PhdLXKZufbhlknnG4Mey8AeBuWkNibbQGz8jZCaE/s640/303_1227.JPG" width="640" /></span></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">He sent her to get the car and run down the four legged beast.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
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</span> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7KapzB3-lEqvKhBlm_OmQkmSHJGjNRzbH2-XXJ8e8yCiagXOibsoY-ZEMxwGIQCpAKk8d9GwMLcfcLfe2VF-vEMSyiIEo8PEC0wa66IiFl_ZbRZcbXftEG9wPp_-FaxtE_tD_8JekyTY/s1600/303_1231.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7KapzB3-lEqvKhBlm_OmQkmSHJGjNRzbH2-XXJ8e8yCiagXOibsoY-ZEMxwGIQCpAKk8d9GwMLcfcLfe2VF-vEMSyiIEo8PEC0wa66IiFl_ZbRZcbXftEG9wPp_-FaxtE_tD_8JekyTY/s640/303_1231.JPG" width="640" /></span></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">He indicated for her to gun the motor and smash that foul demon from hell. That is appropriate punishment for licking ice and munching a few carrots out of a cooler.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
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</span> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirDJv3UjIYP8vIqOT2szstT8jT2d12fcpcJZ3de2VOOgNx-AfAbuQjz5NO5MRJvlc05Jyer8be1pVoOFGgzFn4zHEs40u6qWfc1E4UzxfB1I9S7aY8V0uygwweYJLy165YMgoo93y9P28/s1600/303_1236.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirDJv3UjIYP8vIqOT2szstT8jT2d12fcpcJZ3de2VOOgNx-AfAbuQjz5NO5MRJvlc05Jyer8be1pVoOFGgzFn4zHEs40u6qWfc1E4UzxfB1I9S7aY8V0uygwweYJLy165YMgoo93y9P28/s640/303_1236.JPG" width="640" /></span></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">They finally moved away, mission accomplished!</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Thank goodness for the mechanized infantry.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
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</span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNk8E-RE8R3O8NGYW2LmKqsGFlxlvnRy7T84_V2Hd-YxRvvglZ8OWqw6E36zSvtXzYqdKCvcbc8REj35dqJ2QfqEMVr3rRH0gEhg45WyhPeKrjou4X3mI1UAp2ubJ4p_K8oecUCKUR7Go/s1600/303_1237.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNk8E-RE8R3O8NGYW2LmKqsGFlxlvnRy7T84_V2Hd-YxRvvglZ8OWqw6E36zSvtXzYqdKCvcbc8REj35dqJ2QfqEMVr3rRH0gEhg45WyhPeKrjou4X3mI1UAp2ubJ4p_K8oecUCKUR7Go/s640/303_1237.JPG" width="640" /></span></a>Mick Brennanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09878482559394566227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797737765724591416.post-16457317359737746472010-09-08T10:08:00.003-04:002010-09-08T10:40:01.747-04:00So What!<div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLMk1nvxj3KT_cDgq9GlL18bP6NWytM4hipZvMA-M80of45A4zNC-6xxuUfVUdisz1-PruggqQ8jlqUkFCvvcxm3PHobkmEBIjf2Hlx4u-OLvq5DlmuFhMyribSfFpofuMzxSW8CHS7Bw/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLMk1nvxj3KT_cDgq9GlL18bP6NWytM4hipZvMA-M80of45A4zNC-6xxuUfVUdisz1-PruggqQ8jlqUkFCvvcxm3PHobkmEBIjf2Hlx4u-OLvq5DlmuFhMyribSfFpofuMzxSW8CHS7Bw/s320/images.jpeg" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Burn the Koran! Whatever you do, don't offend the poor peaceful Muslims. They are protected under the law for some reason or the other. Let's be totally politically correct here.</span><br />
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</span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg0Wiq6KXTvNPh8SsfLEkils5Z5YnWpxOtejEvBnmrF34L2gwa6RWD2rtUNdENylNTbval1oUmQtjL0a175g7UnM85KQB6sL1WEAMz8pYYWs8d1LdcK01MB5nSk3-Z42DpjdhHggKuOao/s1600/DownloadedFile.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg0Wiq6KXTvNPh8SsfLEkils5Z5YnWpxOtejEvBnmrF34L2gwa6RWD2rtUNdENylNTbval1oUmQtjL0a175g7UnM85KQB6sL1WEAMz8pYYWs8d1LdcK01MB5nSk3-Z42DpjdhHggKuOao/s320/DownloadedFile.jpeg" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><div style="text-align: justify;">Maybe they are actually really nice people. Kind to women and children and tolerant of all nationalities and other religions. That punishment of 90 lashes and stoning is very fine for a woman who has shown her face in public. The bitch asked for it. Don't you agree that we should protect the muslims, allow them to burn symbols of the USA and encourage freedom of expression?<br />
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</div></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFZLWLiNTkmhuYW0mdszjYrdEIJ-IiNWpWzHgBgI5rrVgTWClqwh0gjux9SAPBSDGdEya9nw-rRke0MCq3FsPKPsIKDsAtb-8UWkKwbS0cu3Brz8EEiclGHMMT5vHvx8JU7CtEzq8ClqI/s1600/images-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFZLWLiNTkmhuYW0mdszjYrdEIJ-IiNWpWzHgBgI5rrVgTWClqwh0gjux9SAPBSDGdEya9nw-rRke0MCq3FsPKPsIKDsAtb-8UWkKwbS0cu3Brz8EEiclGHMMT5vHvx8JU7CtEzq8ClqI/s320/images-1.jpeg" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><div style="text-align: justify;">This is the kind of advertising that was prevalent during WWII. We are fighting a war right? The enemy is "Them" right? So what if we offend somebody. We should be killing them, with kindness maybe? Not. FTW.</div></span><br />
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</span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8PQYndoWDrGx2Y7Inj05mZUV3IlDzpyjVnm-Q2a5WY2Fd4SWcN3pomSWJBKQ4K7nwHPWA0FXy_XNajm4-uoCgz9Fn4fYx4eYcVUeBnNJC0HpBOgyfFs21J-FUvqTG6RGD9X4liQJw71Q/s1600/images-2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8PQYndoWDrGx2Y7Inj05mZUV3IlDzpyjVnm-Q2a5WY2Fd4SWcN3pomSWJBKQ4K7nwHPWA0FXy_XNajm4-uoCgz9Fn4fYx4eYcVUeBnNJC0HpBOgyfFs21J-FUvqTG6RGD9X4liQJw71Q/s320/images-2.jpeg" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><div style="text-align: justify;">This is America. We are the most powerful country in the world. Ever. We are allowed to offend anybody we want to. We can take over countries and give them back. We shouldn't get pushed around. Go ahead and burn any symbol you want, you are an American. Burning draft cards was a temporary sensation. The bra burning thing was great too. They burned all kinds of books and even set fire to all those ugly witches in Massachusetts. Personally I am totally relieved that epidemic was stopped in it's tracks before those nasty Salem Witches could take off and start breeding all over the place.<br />
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We should stop acting like such pussies right away. All we need to do is blow the living daylights out of any location we even suspect may be harboring terrorists, rebels or whatever. The people running away from the bad guys would be a dead give away. They know that we won't blow up a school. That becomes a good place to use as headquarters. Bullshit. Reagan parked an aircraft carrier offshore and dropped a few bombs in Omar Kadafi's back yard. That shut him up for 25 years. That kind of negotiating works.</div></span><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis8EksLpuY0xFWXuEGqFx5zkenkh-FzLtVAfcGSjsoB6EnVg0EfpoxUbrAMLp4z3SeHGrdC-INk3KS5evFGcwNfJzmdlKF973d3UF64plACWvXdpmnGoj7cOdZpcGDyYromL6B5lNiRMk/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis8EksLpuY0xFWXuEGqFx5zkenkh-FzLtVAfcGSjsoB6EnVg0EfpoxUbrAMLp4z3SeHGrdC-INk3KS5evFGcwNfJzmdlKF973d3UF64plACWvXdpmnGoj7cOdZpcGDyYromL6B5lNiRMk/s320/images.jpeg" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I know how to win this war; Build a great big electric plant. Start broadcasting TV, hook all the kids up to Wii and iPods. Park everybody in front of a great big TV set and turn on Real World, Jersey Shore and Gerry Springer. Crank up the air in the homes and make it intolerable to go outside. Fill the youth of that country with sugary drinks, carbohydrates and give away free cigarettes. Be aware of all the pictures you see from the middle east. No wonder these people are angry. Of course they are pissed off, they live in terrible conditions! Dust all over the place, no ice, definitely no martinis and you can probably forget all about limes or olives. How about a supermarket, nice cool shower and a FEMA trailer from Louisiana left over from Katrina? </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Supply them with Ramen noodles, Easy Mac and white bread. They NEED McDonalds too. How about some plumbing? They would go for an actual toilet upon which they could sit. A few Corvettes spread out to the natives who become narcs wouldn't hurt either. After a few months of advertising we could escalate to total warfare. Bring in NASCAR, Coors light and maybe a golf course here and there. Pick up the trash, bulldoze the hovels we see on TV.</span><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMBFokcl7IS_aX9kwES-gdkWtPn4qDeJps7kLRGshRViRs6n9XmLhtrtOfiQs6uXxaMgTZ7NU0YmWv6VfEYLokGAFSlvKNC1jUBdcn0rBeNvRAwFlzNgZDGA76ylpgKTzAMbIKS65w-Ww/s1600/DownloadedFile.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMBFokcl7IS_aX9kwES-gdkWtPn4qDeJps7kLRGshRViRs6n9XmLhtrtOfiQs6uXxaMgTZ7NU0YmWv6VfEYLokGAFSlvKNC1jUBdcn0rBeNvRAwFlzNgZDGA76ylpgKTzAMbIKS65w-Ww/s320/DownloadedFile.jpeg" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Resistance is futile, you will be assimilated.</span></div></div>Mick Brennanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09878482559394566227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797737765724591416.post-74636968445294081462010-08-23T00:46:00.000-04:002010-08-23T00:46:04.160-04:00Pitching a tent<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg84iOFx6HmWqzKK8D0w78MonrRYaY7kYmTAxJIzOQVCk-oicJHXQpJvxK_QP46DIBqrD1XIJyBY5UO8tD8GxX5wDXiAZws9d9Y8cBOlpiu8ewstCfwHz5RdRmUVJ8Z5HUAHkd5VYE9KZQ/s1600/images-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: right;"><img border="0" height="175" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg84iOFx6HmWqzKK8D0w78MonrRYaY7kYmTAxJIzOQVCk-oicJHXQpJvxK_QP46DIBqrD1XIJyBY5UO8tD8GxX5wDXiAZws9d9Y8cBOlpiu8ewstCfwHz5RdRmUVJ8Z5HUAHkd5VYE9KZQ/s200/images-1.jpeg" width="200" /></a>Have you seen the new Cialis commercial? It starts out pretty normal but quickly turns into an old fashioned, heavy duty, acid trip. Not that cosmetic junk that just kind of made soft glows around the edges of things and rainbows over headlights and street lamps. Or the product of incomplete synthesis hastily made in some basement washtub desperate dealers would try to pass off as mescaline. Whoever created this commercial must have found an old stash of sugar cubes or Orange Sunshine Microdots. Now, I have no personal experience with any illegal substances but my friend did a mess of that stuff, all the time, and told me about it. </div></span><br />
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</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizehJRjqRSRV38oQAxb1kKhzf_dp34qPXoQtjISsTMqALdgadEidYGasGzvOiWA8HniUAuH_P6PtmkpfHn2qhn5nGyZ31_RPNGaK805hOrKduESlC-GwdeQEfdOnuHhbXu1dyxuPGe5SM/s1600/61529_Psychedelic-Dude_620.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="151" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizehJRjqRSRV38oQAxb1kKhzf_dp34qPXoQtjISsTMqALdgadEidYGasGzvOiWA8HniUAuH_P6PtmkpfHn2qhn5nGyZ31_RPNGaK805hOrKduESlC-GwdeQEfdOnuHhbXu1dyxuPGe5SM/s200/61529_Psychedelic-Dude_620.jpg" width="200" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Everything goes all surreal right after the guy lays eyes on the widely grinning female. The voice over is hawking the pill. "When the moment is right..." croons the announcer in soothing, confident, dulcet tones, "you can be ready." That's when the visual fun starts. The video becomes slightly cartoonish. It isn't too weird as to be completely like a claymation movie but enough that you can tell it's not real. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1eX07cAM1c5QGzz25PD8uPW8OX8RN32Hvb-755VU5n5iYogo9EFrvPSVSkhqcJWNEMyxsxULUX4UrdOyP1ojCpjWMNzPrTk1WRgOie6FywhSBFKqqvGKgdLDRC8tYCMrJQrv9_RlHgQw/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1eX07cAM1c5QGzz25PD8uPW8OX8RN32Hvb-755VU5n5iYogo9EFrvPSVSkhqcJWNEMyxsxULUX4UrdOyP1ojCpjWMNzPrTk1WRgOie6FywhSBFKqqvGKgdLDRC8tYCMrJQrv9_RlHgQw/s320/images.jpeg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">The background then begins to all shift and smoothly slide around. A cabin appears then sort of unfolds and dissolves into the suddenly absorbent ground. In its place is... a tent. Get it? The guy is pitching a tent! The tent pole is plainly visible where the door of the little house was only seconds before. As the breeze slightly parts the entrance of the tent more things get melty and begin growing from and retreating into the lush green strands of the surface. Bridges appear and arch spans a sparking stream which is obviously flowing uphill. Trees and grass blossom and grow before our eyes as the happy couple walk hand in hand over the hobbit terrain out of the frame and directly to the twin bathtubs which have become the trade scene for this product. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-rcbdZT7gUO0t2KSCKkqn-5USbBZ5aNUOHpszooGMUnkttFiZGZoPpO-n-EQ7HG2VTv5MXLS1MYdsovONoj9bEaz7ytDqqll7G5iwGSuH0AgX_KSWP9WIOeBO0DABuPDfK0Nlxioh9xw/s1600/images-2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-rcbdZT7gUO0t2KSCKkqn-5USbBZ5aNUOHpszooGMUnkttFiZGZoPpO-n-EQ7HG2VTv5MXLS1MYdsovONoj9bEaz7ytDqqll7G5iwGSuH0AgX_KSWP9WIOeBO0DABuPDfK0Nlxioh9xw/s320/images-2.jpeg" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Why are they in separate tubs? Is the message here that boner pills should be mixed with some four-way window pane? Why does she look so happy, thankful and relieved 12 seconds before anything goes on? Why the bath? Maybe she looks like a glazed donut considering the powerful psychedelic properties of this new wonder drug and needs to rinse.</span></div>Mick Brennanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09878482559394566227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797737765724591416.post-5155170538973434022010-08-13T23:36:00.000-04:002010-08-13T23:36:48.696-04:00Stranded at home?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXHKywNlI-6BVfmvX3IlbJMcxhKnYyJlCmz-2tk1-2G7Itb-uiSyqRmiPjUqBPFCupeqOq69zCQU7Ud27CBAJdYJYpD3V48m91mDPhXqtNTprpw0waC4DeZ97PkoRgclwuhXeXr-nostk/s1600/vp1268248_1_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXHKywNlI-6BVfmvX3IlbJMcxhKnYyJlCmz-2tk1-2G7Itb-uiSyqRmiPjUqBPFCupeqOq69zCQU7Ud27CBAJdYJYpD3V48m91mDPhXqtNTprpw0waC4DeZ97PkoRgclwuhXeXr-nostk/s400/vp1268248_1_large.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">The motorhome is at the hospital. We bought the extended warranty and plan to use it. This traumatic action is prompted by the refrigerator recall. So, as long as we are taking it back to the dealer we might as well get the rest of our little problems fixed at the same time. </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhESPJnxqFPOkIRgRIdcaBDs4Nk522WWvOr3QXZge-vQMDfQ2zDsfzenFvz7f98PkR1OHgJEd98QSg7JuWv7mnChgdviXnSbhks6M8v6l7jaKbYDNu0dbBaWyemjhDph4abnalrxhxhyphenhyphenis/s1600/SParkway-s.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="128" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhESPJnxqFPOkIRgRIdcaBDs4Nk522WWvOr3QXZge-vQMDfQ2zDsfzenFvz7f98PkR1OHgJEd98QSg7JuWv7mnChgdviXnSbhks6M8v6l7jaKbYDNu0dbBaWyemjhDph4abnalrxhxhyphenhyphenis/s640/SParkway-s.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW_aCKE0Y-qEdkIwWg4VLo5SVOPJnht9H6L_ewirs4c5aPEE0uoxRF6fgmw_NFU30GnKEsUaUlD0S7WHDK1FmNueS1zOqIyvJPKw3YozhIKfK-OvcMfwvHbMZs9xfC5cB63yCJXXoQtQ8/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW_aCKE0Y-qEdkIwWg4VLo5SVOPJnht9H6L_ewirs4c5aPEE0uoxRF6fgmw_NFU30GnKEsUaUlD0S7WHDK1FmNueS1zOqIyvJPKw3YozhIKfK-OvcMfwvHbMZs9xfC5cB63yCJXXoQtQ8/s200/images.jpeg" width="128" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">The effect of not having a place to get out of the sun, eat lunch or just watch a little TV while at camp has had a terrible effect on me. Only one place to live? No diesel powered 3 TV man cave? Camp has become a really great place to get away. The maintenance there is about zero. Every once in a while I spray the gravel with round up to murder anything that might be sprouting. It is fun to gather a few sticks which have fallen from the trees and burn them in the fire pit our friends gave us. Once a week or so somebody has to walk around to pull the lever which drains the holding tanks into the stinky slinky RV sewer. </span></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYwUa3tkj9UX0yLNVeO2krFCVHDH6R15h44LFAJKwFqbfwLfEIBMEpnmAz5x634cfU-0-AC327XpwOsRhvD27apQ5lg6OokRM_LaUHCLVopsIQrfNbsAn-rmI2xBDIPrx7doR2ihlMaSU/s1600/castor+bean.1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYwUa3tkj9UX0yLNVeO2krFCVHDH6R15h44LFAJKwFqbfwLfEIBMEpnmAz5x634cfU-0-AC327XpwOsRhvD27apQ5lg6OokRM_LaUHCLVopsIQrfNbsAn-rmI2xBDIPrx7doR2ihlMaSU/s200/castor+bean.1.jpg" width="137" /></span></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">The Red Castor Bean plant is starting to erupt into a very wild looking piece of vegetation. They are having a nice party Saturday and another one on Labor Day. </span></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9xSUNS_XuoJ1HNicYq3cTOqgHExHuOyh7PMqkDIyh3bGVUqxaAUQbjrFYqAc_B9FDRou6oDq8LDvgud9h-Z5LJ1fx_B6Ofv6Cd-j2t8n8BFpFfxw2r7aYNhajDf8mxDCjRyzq9umBgLw/s1600/images-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9xSUNS_XuoJ1HNicYq3cTOqgHExHuOyh7PMqkDIyh3bGVUqxaAUQbjrFYqAc_B9FDRou6oDq8LDvgud9h-Z5LJ1fx_B6Ofv6Cd-j2t8n8BFpFfxw2r7aYNhajDf8mxDCjRyzq9umBgLw/s200/images-1.jpeg" width="200" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Maybe even a showing of Rocky Horror on the fence between the indoor pool and the tennis court. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Who knows, we might even watch RHPS from our own golf cart.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKmcz_J8f-tN3ur6dWRI-p9GFbJODPELBXF66nfAeoZfZSwi4P1Pz1MvgIkwyYnWhqOJP2yY0mUAzaBWn4GAMnRCWMAmmxh7gveDJHaw_Vwtp6wUYj0FBxmM49miEmVnlHt2QasIW3kyY/s1600/RockyHorrorPictureShow_Logo01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKmcz_J8f-tN3ur6dWRI-p9GFbJODPELBXF66nfAeoZfZSwi4P1Pz1MvgIkwyYnWhqOJP2yY0mUAzaBWn4GAMnRCWMAmmxh7gveDJHaw_Vwtp6wUYj0FBxmM49miEmVnlHt2QasIW3kyY/s320/RockyHorrorPictureShow_Logo01.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> </span></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Basically nothing is happening. Yet...</span></span></div>Mick Brennanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09878482559394566227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797737765724591416.post-78909592495087677782010-07-26T11:42:00.005-04:002010-08-18T20:42:40.597-04:00Your approved!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: right;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy0C_gB9KFIt4ECuQN2yYkmNJEh8PX8D2apsmH2NINJA5CBuWdLZXy5JhWnRpxSuFp_6x0bhd8jLDs41PX4Lw81-mbx-bqEICQolp1mYgIHi5vbmhkW6vicz6wj_TumcZ_31dKA6WICNg/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy0C_gB9KFIt4ECuQN2yYkmNJEh8PX8D2apsmH2NINJA5CBuWdLZXy5JhWnRpxSuFp_6x0bhd8jLDs41PX4Lw81-mbx-bqEICQolp1mYgIHi5vbmhkW6vicz6wj_TumcZ_31dKA6WICNg/s320/images.jpeg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Out on the highway we saw a big sign over a used car lot. It said "Your approved." Now let's not be snobby but come on, that is just wrong. The word "your" and the "you're" are different words. "</span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Your</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">" is an adjective that describes some</span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">thing</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> relating to you. "</span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">You're</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">" </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">is a contraction of "</span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">you" and "are</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">." It is not that complicated. I think that a sign printer should at least have a grammar checker on a laptop or a basic working knowledge of our language.</span></span></span></div></span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVwIEsLWMFyMKhmpvkD91cQ72nVGUyCYtiyeZ1x5r-JnY7224HTcd9M56XhZYOHkSuAeQcWOjtkJMzNY91dBbPSCnWY0b-KBiML7dZEX2Gsg9o4mkE7cyVk3oOLZZfVUf58Sv9TpcV-UY/s1600/smile-your-on-camera-500x375.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVwIEsLWMFyMKhmpvkD91cQ72nVGUyCYtiyeZ1x5r-JnY7224HTcd9M56XhZYOHkSuAeQcWOjtkJMzNY91dBbPSCnWY0b-KBiML7dZEX2Gsg9o4mkE7cyVk3oOLZZfVUf58Sv9TpcV-UY/s200/smile-your-on-camera-500x375.jpg" width="200" /></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">And... how about all the other stupid stuff in our language. It seems that a lot of it is creeping into general usage. Some of it works and some of it sounds weird. The overhead announcement at Wally World said "Wearing our jeans, you will be </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">representing</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">." Uh, representing what? That was it, just "representing." What is that? Since when does the Colonel "</span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">do</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">" chicken? "Do" as a verb meant something else in starting the 60's. "</span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Virtual</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">" had another, different meaning too but I don't remember what it was. "</span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Actually</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">" is now all over the place. The guys on "This Old House" use it in every other sentence. "</span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Soul Patch</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">" is pretty unusual. My dad had a different word for that little beard right beneath your lip. If anybody uses "</span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">axe</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">" in place of "</span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">ask</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">" I either hang up or turn away. I am afraid to type more about that, it may be illegal. "</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Unibrow</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">" is discriptive. "</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Ba dunk a dunk</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">" seems to be a long way to go for "</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">butt</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">." I like "<i>application" </i>but<i> </i>using "<i>yo</i>" at the end of a sentence, not so much. More incidences of "</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">or</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">", "</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">our</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">" and "</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">are</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">" transpositions have begun to show up. Nobody seems to know how to spell on any internet forum. The word "</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">definitely</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">" </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">gets butchered all the time. "<i>Too", "two" </i>and "<i>to" </i>is also often abused.</span></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj05I8FsSuOCt6bFVB94TplkI3HzlAffYkL3PB40MKS68WXbxXvbGJ2y44s9rKjBXS6Pmae_YzPhH-bTwnKXbw2YNjyFhraVQKFg64ooGtf2F-zwIimj1yugH1IAtuZo_OrpvIeurwO9p8/s1600/49052232_fdb4d72a97_m.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj05I8FsSuOCt6bFVB94TplkI3HzlAffYkL3PB40MKS68WXbxXvbGJ2y44s9rKjBXS6Pmae_YzPhH-bTwnKXbw2YNjyFhraVQKFg64ooGtf2F-zwIimj1yugH1IAtuZo_OrpvIeurwO9p8/s320/49052232_fdb4d72a97_m.jpg" /></span></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Our library here in town featured an opportunity to have your photo taken and travel document application printed for free. Somebody had removed the letter "p" and differently spaced their marquee sign. It now read "ass port night, we take photos." Yesterday I was in a men's room and saw that somebody had altered an obscenity written on the wall. We are in Amish Country so it shouldn't have been too surprising. They had carefully converted the word "</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">F**K</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">" to "</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">BOOK." </span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">How about that?</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Let's not even discuss prepositions. They are bad things to end sentences with.</span></span></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqyDykDkHaxwQfZdY4XfrhXoHRC7E4LBeDEIBKAWXJA6bd1oonR_pKOBp-LZAqD4c_RDIMQCTFAMZox8bo96uEIjHy0yCxTaZFk5hceSbpgP0bl9SHQKN7nZeHN6_1zFiB7t8YOXO-GKo/s1600/49162886_e3f851c3c3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqyDykDkHaxwQfZdY4XfrhXoHRC7E4LBeDEIBKAWXJA6bd1oonR_pKOBp-LZAqD4c_RDIMQCTFAMZox8bo96uEIjHy0yCxTaZFk5hceSbpgP0bl9SHQKN7nZeHN6_1zFiB7t8YOXO-GKo/s400/49162886_e3f851c3c3.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma;"></span></span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">We can skip apostrophe abuse too.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"></div></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></span></div>Mick Brennanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09878482559394566227noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797737765724591416.post-2381973484895174502010-07-18T23:02:00.000-04:002010-07-18T23:02:43.179-04:00No story, just pictures.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Anybody know where we were camping?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Mick Brennanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09878482559394566227noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797737765724591416.post-60298921499672730132010-07-07T18:06:00.001-04:002010-07-12T18:54:39.233-04:00Pirate, caught me they did.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJue_flR4D59a9bZgnz1dw9S06hOUGesHOoDp4eLnKu7yZCKKbhG6JBecHBwmyNcCUmkvV9rInhYG-POjXH9xjsH_nZ4Z28DOCrjNH0ipXkeobBo-tZGn7iwc8bYcaJklUcPtdBvvxTZc/s1600/images-3.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="174" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJue_flR4D59a9bZgnz1dw9S06hOUGesHOoDp4eLnKu7yZCKKbhG6JBecHBwmyNcCUmkvV9rInhYG-POjXH9xjsH_nZ4Z28DOCrjNH0ipXkeobBo-tZGn7iwc8bYcaJklUcPtdBvvxTZc/s200/images-3.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My Internet Service Provider sent me a letter yesterday. It seems that they are in communication with FOX Searchlight Films. I have been busted attempting to download the movie "Avatar." This action has apparently caused an international reaction. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I did follow a link like... </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://torrentdownloads.net/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">THIS</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">. </span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
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</span></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjowfaiquHZOe3r1pxYkO-MJl77EcO7GaoMLfhqoAfw599vDXXb3HaNAJPz1Az-_0GtIXP-jflRa6vWtdtOJvIozNCAOzaV4PBSoTAW-RMXfIY9hb8R2Ek3MHEcu1V_xa6eK8I4aSpEJJ0/s1600/images-2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjowfaiquHZOe3r1pxYkO-MJl77EcO7GaoMLfhqoAfw599vDXXb3HaNAJPz1Az-_0GtIXP-jflRa6vWtdtOJvIozNCAOzaV4PBSoTAW-RMXfIY9hb8R2Ek3MHEcu1V_xa6eK8I4aSpEJJ0/s320/images-2.jpeg" /></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My feeble attempt at using a subterfuge of technology was futile. I did get a bunch of files and some kind of information but it wasn't Avatar. I wanted it to be Avatar but no, it would not play. Like in the movie "The Fly" where Jeff Goldblum was all over the place, Avatar was too. So I just forgot all about it. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On the news the other day they showed a couple who were Russian Spies! They had been here for like 20 years, living, breeding and spying on all of us. Did they leave their spy ISP addy on a server someplace too? Do they have to get up in the middle of the night to take a squirt? FOX nailed them too I bet. How about Bin Laden? I bet he surfs the net and downloads lots of camel pictures or something. He has bad kidneys right? He must pee like a race camel all over the place. They could probably just follow his DNA in the sewer and find him. Where is a </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">real life </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">CSI counterpart? Go get him (Bin Laden). </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVSovX-iz0OAiKTjQI60Sa6NYsB1a5WR03PLw2HHqgHmmm1EcgKsBKgZhfkksVI_8hmWobo9PUntkZedyrgXhkCAucXoFixfaME3nN00M9PEqrR27uu5OS3_qzCSS-qAxQzz0ryaDunEk/s1600/images-4.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVSovX-iz0OAiKTjQI60Sa6NYsB1a5WR03PLw2HHqgHmmm1EcgKsBKgZhfkksVI_8hmWobo9PUntkZedyrgXhkCAucXoFixfaME3nN00M9PEqrR27uu5OS3_qzCSS-qAxQzz0ryaDunEk/s200/images-4.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Oh hell, can Terrorists read this? It's okay, as a Pirate, Ready for them I am. Closing the bathroom door I will be.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
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</div></span>Mick Brennanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09878482559394566227noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797737765724591416.post-24707239610442436532010-06-26T08:51:00.001-04:002011-10-04T23:00:08.010-04:00Out of fuel?<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP-76cSp5_SkbANbU2dxlsI_d5yFH3OhiSLPLZvawCZjFi0NHVV-5AsMuKID4yUnAZaJjCvAoBGwIN1w9ewgqsBUC07_ogzQA_CNf4tiE95VP9WfCo6Fi7tSWJ4m3oSM8KfVJmlgVaQYk/s1600/p7200049.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP-76cSp5_SkbANbU2dxlsI_d5yFH3OhiSLPLZvawCZjFi0NHVV-5AsMuKID4yUnAZaJjCvAoBGwIN1w9ewgqsBUC07_ogzQA_CNf4tiE95VP9WfCo6Fi7tSWJ4m3oSM8KfVJmlgVaQYk/s320/p7200049.jpg" width="320" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">We took off from Tennessee around noon heading north east. Every surface inside the camper is sticky and the potty needs a break from all the work it got from the little grand kids. We bypassed Nashville and got on the Western Kentucky Parkway. Now, she kept on saying that we should refuel. The little voice in my head was saying stuff like, "Don't be such a pussy." "We still have a hundred miles left in that tank." And "We can get much better prices a little farther down the road." So I kept going. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">The Low Fuel light was blinking intermittently but the gage read almost a quarter tank. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">We turned off the W.K. toward a big diesel sign. At the top of the exit ramp the steering suddenly required a great deal of effort and the coach was not responding to desperate, repeated jabs of very firm pressure on the accelerator pedal. Luckily the fuel station was all downhill. We coasted about two thousand feet, right to the one diesel pump and rolled to a stop without applying the brakes. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">We filled the tank. It took 86 gallons to top off our supposed 100 gallon fuel tank. But the engine would not restart. We read the manual and re-primed the fuel pump but to no avail. Calling several road service guys yielded advice to use ether to start the engine. The Quickee Mart sold starting fluid. Stuck at the pumps in Central City Kentucky would be a bad place for a Yankee to start huffing my way an Ether Binge. We also have ice, lime twists, vermouth, Ketel One and a cocktail shaker. But I resisted the urge to shake up a Bone Dry martini.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">So we waited for road service because I couldn't find the air intake into which I would squirt the starting fluid. When the guy did show up he lifted the bed to examine the Cummins diesel under the bed and began to slightly dismantle the fuel pump. He kind of resembled Jed Clampet's poorer, less sophisticated, relative. The road service vehicle was a 18 year old dark blue Lincoln Town Car with black interior. They had all the windows open despite the brutal heat and 100% humidity. His bride/cousin waited in the passenger seat while we searched for the air filter. There was fuel at the pump evidenced by the copious amount of liquid released when he twisted a bolt on the fuel pump. Proof that our priming efforts were successful. This dude pressed his greasy, fuel soaked hand, up under his nose and sniffed his fingers like an eighth grader after his first make out trip to home base. He took another big whiff then waved his hand at me, "This kerosene?" I turned my head away and assured him that the pump said diesel fuel and had a gigantic nozzle, way too huge to fit in a car tank. After he looked carefully at the pump he muttered something about "ul tra looow sul fur smells fun knee." This guy was like a Wine Expert only for Diesel fuel! We began our collective search for the air filter anew. We discovered it under a screwed on panel and saw the air intake is up on the roof at the back of the coach. "Thars where I haf ta go." He instantly scampered up the ladder to the roof, squirted the starting fluid down the air scoop (who knew) and the thing roared to life. His picket fence grin flashed broadly "Thar she goes. Runnin' now." We were quickly on the road again. This guy was that good! </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Trying to make up for the 4 hours we lost in the fuel station we pressed on into the night. Kentucky and West Virginia had lousy road marking and visibility was greatly diminished by sheets of driving rain and huge, blinding lightning flashes. We drove on to about 1:30 or 2:30 am depending on which time zone's jurisdiction we were. We slept at a truck stop just south of Cincinnati among 200 big rigs. P said she would never be able to get to sleep because they ran their engines all night. She was unconscious in 4 seconds! </span></span></div>
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Mick Brennanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09878482559394566227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797737765724591416.post-31425502702027469862010-06-15T15:39:00.005-04:002010-07-12T18:52:01.559-04:00Armadillos and Cat Turds<div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Gv4rCYqWE7aWJ08JBOTAvt6mZs4_2ijIbu7zDClTuqMzvROXxPGkG-ohHQth-svKmyH10XLh98g7eAGoq0ktymj572C9OYfVrMLxeLnSVMHc0YMCBVgsPFsTJPjD9FXFehyoWZqjt2Q/s1600/I-420Flag.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" qu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Gv4rCYqWE7aWJ08JBOTAvt6mZs4_2ijIbu7zDClTuqMzvROXxPGkG-ohHQth-svKmyH10XLh98g7eAGoq0ktymj572C9OYfVrMLxeLnSVMHc0YMCBVgsPFsTJPjD9FXFehyoWZqjt2Q/s320/I-420Flag.jpg" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;">Our trip home through the outer regions of the civilized word was destined for trouble from the start. There was a part of Georgia we passed through that was very hilly. That road was so steep they had thoughtfully provided a place for slower drivers to pull off and allow braver people to pass. We also drove by HUGE confederate flags flying over single wides elevated on stacked cinderblocks. There were hundreds of Armadillos lying lifeless by the side of the road. We saw at least 50 Florida Citrus Centers, Plantation Peach Outlets and Big Daddy's Fireworks tents.</span></div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQnCiBgyz6WPcwmXPB71xoQH8UFBDcFGYcFwHNU6apd0xzUtojOjwVQecFPM81MSorD2m7_eylL_qHqrZzDhTJRmDbniSpOtQRgnf2fRhn4Ej0w4ghEhtA9w-_3bKi28-XtyhAWkre0wM/s1600/roadkill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="140" qu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQnCiBgyz6WPcwmXPB71xoQH8UFBDcFGYcFwHNU6apd0xzUtojOjwVQecFPM81MSorD2m7_eylL_qHqrZzDhTJRmDbniSpOtQRgnf2fRhn4Ej0w4ghEhtA9w-_3bKi28-XtyhAWkre0wM/s200/roadkill.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-size: large;"></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">After the gigantic hill we approached an intersection. It was not a right angle crossing but shaped more like an "X." Having just gone about 100 miles at 25 miles an hour the stop sign really didn't register. P lifted her foot and squirmed in her chair. "Stop..., stop sign..., STOP!" Oh hell, that's me... she's talking to me. So I jammed on the brakes. All kinds of stuff began moving around in the back of the coach. Beer cans were rolling in the fridge, pet food sliding, parrot wings flapping, waterbowls sloshing over. </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaBvDR0ROkfVT7-UUB3gAplggtsMJHe5Ccyyja1M_Lv6PKIBscYSKnyX84vtVMujSkpB3PGfbNsXp3b63vnM4_SaXYVn7r_xgVoLhPjc7a4KzWMGtybX49Z8KVQw7jnUEI_rVkkAaK68o/s1600/traditional-siamese-cat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" qu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaBvDR0ROkfVT7-UUB3gAplggtsMJHe5Ccyyja1M_Lv6PKIBscYSKnyX84vtVMujSkpB3PGfbNsXp3b63vnM4_SaXYVn7r_xgVoLhPjc7a4KzWMGtybX49Z8KVQw7jnUEI_rVkkAaK68o/s200/traditional-siamese-cat.jpg" width="121" /></a><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;">This is the sudden stop I was worrying about. Maybe I should just remove my foot and hurtle right on through the 4 way stop? How bad could it be? We have out of state licence plates. The flat grassy intersection was deserted. I was seriously considering ignoring the stop signs completely. P was bracing for some kind of disaster. Her shoulders were up and she had a very firm grip on both arms of her seat. She was struggling against inertia by bracing both her feet on the floor of the coach. Just then a very distracting thing happened. A cat rapidly came toward the front of the coach accompanied by a strong obnoxious odor. He was sort of leaping as he desperately tried to control his trajectory. He bounced off the CD player with all fours then landed against the windshield in a crouch as we screeched to a stop. Siamese had a funny look on his face and his posture was not the best. It soon became obvious that the cat had been in the catbox during the panic braking. Poor little guy was hanging a rope just prior to the application of the brakes which caused his immediate, untimely, ejection from his sandy commode. One little log was still dangling from his chocolate starfish. He was cowering against the glass with a pained expression on his cat face and scuffing his butt from one side of the coach to the other while leaving a pathetic, spotty, beige, turd particle smudged, putrid, skid mark across the top of the dashboard.</span></div></div><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;">"Pull over", she said.</span></div>Mick Brennanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09878482559394566227noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797737765724591416.post-67539672841027200222010-05-31T21:45:00.006-04:002011-10-12T18:57:06.556-04:00Made it!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Here we are in Ponciana. A suburb of Kissimmee Florida. It is raining like a bastard. The campground is full and the hotel rooms are completely sold out. It has rained like this almost everyday. The guy camped next to us muttered something about a "water leak" and is now mysteriously gone.We have learned to get up early to get our sunburn out of the way before noon. Our campsite (116) is almost as far away from the pool and bar area as possible. Why do we worry about getting soaked after getting right out of the water? We do. The rain also limits our menu choices. Cooking a steak over a gas grill under the cloth awning is ill advised.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">We only had two incidents on our way down here. Our fueling stop was at a Flying J. They have a special island for motorhome diesel. It is cheaper because it has no extra road use tax. We were in that lane. The pump malfunctioned. The guy behind me was impatient because that was the lane that he wanted to use to dump his poop tank. He was furious at me. He impatiently tapped his Sperry Topsiders and put his hands on the hips of his neatly pressed chinos as he hissed something about how long of a process this was becoming. Who cares. He is way overdressed for turd herding anyway. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">We were hurtling down 95 about 63 mph just south of Daytona when all of a suden, out of nowhere we were suddenly jolted from our hypnotic driving trance and assaulted by a horrendously loud, eardrum rattleing, insanely high-pitched, almost hypersonic, wailing sound. Like a carbon monoxide detector gone mad or Satan's own teakettle furiously boiling and wailing for relief from the flames. Imagine a silent dog whistle for a 27 foot tall mutt. "What is that?" P leaned forward and looked up. "WINDSHIELD!" Screeeeeeeeeeee I know the prisoner dolphins in Sea World heard it. She gestured up at the corner of the gigantic glass panel in front of her. Screeeeeeeeeeee "IT'S LOOSE AGAIN." Oh hell now what do we do? A sign appeared over the interstate. Rest area 1 mile. We pull in to the rest stop, get the ladder out of the storage and duct tape the windshield. That's it. We drove the rest of the way in comfort. We have an appointment to have it fixed when we leave here. There are a bunch of love bugs stuck to the part of the tape that blew back and exposed the adhesive to the insect world.</span></div>
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<br /></div>Mick Brennanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09878482559394566227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797737765724591416.post-15470434447038470442010-05-18T10:23:00.005-04:002010-05-18T16:55:24.436-04:00American Automobile Association<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">We are still getting ready to drive to Florida. Even though Disney didn't work out we are still going. It is a nice time of year and after all we have been home for almost 6 weeks. In a row!</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">This expedition requires a lot of getting ready. Preparation for this trip has divided itself into several sets of tasks. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivgQx93k-FCrtn5XPzU1YB_VZmuystpy-Vwt-D_-jA-GpORKA5ira86nuAO5UeTW22_nwJXC-aYNFFhXXgZxTsyHNsNkhjkNMe4jWglIr0Ii4tnYwI4kQslfyHtq5MMLLf8wJ297xh69E/s1600/poptarts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="120" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivgQx93k-FCrtn5XPzU1YB_VZmuystpy-Vwt-D_-jA-GpORKA5ira86nuAO5UeTW22_nwJXC-aYNFFhXXgZxTsyHNsNkhjkNMe4jWglIr0Ii4tnYwI4kQslfyHtq5MMLLf8wJ297xh69E/s200/poptarts.jpg" width="200" /></span></a><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Food is a biggie. We are not towing an extra vehicle behind us. That means that we would need to have about a week's worth of food. We have stocked up on PB and J, pop tarts, microwave popcorn, rice krispy treats and hamburger helper. Maybe a few steaks, pork chops, burgers and hot dogs for healthy meals.</span></div><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIem0aUOPpAScxIfIAdymlM7SVSJFYgYrlmQpfeQIwg4NrLPB_KRnOti1N2QTztT142RbE2bfcql0o8c3SwX65_yHLYiAx-LMhti_fmSCSYf3zaMDJfXJFPAqjSAClleJN64dr7LnvrcA/s1600/images-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="182" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIem0aUOPpAScxIfIAdymlM7SVSJFYgYrlmQpfeQIwg4NrLPB_KRnOti1N2QTztT142RbE2bfcql0o8c3SwX65_yHLYiAx-LMhti_fmSCSYf3zaMDJfXJFPAqjSAClleJN64dr7LnvrcA/s200/images-1.jpeg" width="200" /></span></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Pets are another necessity. The parrot cage is all set up. The cat box fits perfectly under it. That should keep all the animal poop mostly in one place given no sudden stops or reckless driving maneuvers. Livestock food is stored under the bathroom sink. Which category is that?</span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmyyIFfiE5Q4zt4CQDQ-O5PDz6F1oKM6DJDX6h8AR7jF8fQAQipIUlmOgbVt2d_WmR1VFMxg7MNrSPmDgWbLm9Shy9ywIXrUyznJTHHTkOXzEqy39SyfY2Bou7wghT5d69aJouWQCRz8s/s1600/cat_box.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="145" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmyyIFfiE5Q4zt4CQDQ-O5PDz6F1oKM6DJDX6h8AR7jF8fQAQipIUlmOgbVt2d_WmR1VFMxg7MNrSPmDgWbLm9Shy9ywIXrUyznJTHHTkOXzEqy39SyfY2Bou7wghT5d69aJouWQCRz8s/s200/cat_box.jpg" width="200" /></span></a><br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">TV is the other biggie. The DVD VCR is all installed. It works the flat panel over the drivers seat, the 13 inch in the back bedroom and the great big dinosaur 29 inch outside, in the patio storage area under the floor. There is no satellite receiver to go with the dish mounted on the roof. The TV switch board is still kind of a mystery but hopefully we will decipher the functions of those little push buttons when we get wherever we are going. Most campgrounds have cable available up so that means we get to run yet another wire from the back of the coach. Along with the sewer hose, electric cord, special white drinking water hose we will now have a TV cable to deal with. With the TV outside we will be able to enjoy the great outdoors while enjoying our healthy red meat dinner.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5qYzwLsNcxo-M33XMdj9j_aTTcXBjhdRv3nh6XjeVBdc5xcmV2cBtET0USCtU2TPcBQEas_sF2vCIG8Q4JdhTUyKDz2puSbxvW_T9hJPBZeIesv7O46pXBKfWQJGjv_Xzur3m2XUQ12s/s1600/images-2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5qYzwLsNcxo-M33XMdj9j_aTTcXBjhdRv3nh6XjeVBdc5xcmV2cBtET0USCtU2TPcBQEas_sF2vCIG8Q4JdhTUyKDz2puSbxvW_T9hJPBZeIesv7O46pXBKfWQJGjv_Xzur3m2XUQ12s/s320/images-2.jpeg" /></span></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">We have 100 gallons of diesel but the propane is getting low. There is construction along part of our route. The propane distributor is on a section of road that will allow us (me) to avoid the construction zone and driving on the skinny lane diversion. The mirrors have already been repaired several times. We will get refilled on that other road for sure.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTu5RhU2pySOy9z33bqJAczWpekxdZ3KiExxaSFpYaYBciDXKF2vVZn2dMhJ_frL2aXNfCMjhEgyyncR7OXGqYGzmPpv6yQg1NR0ui9mEhcMdMpOrXEsXnIyi7tZ9Zg6z6FNY9bSHgGag/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTu5RhU2pySOy9z33bqJAczWpekxdZ3KiExxaSFpYaYBciDXKF2vVZn2dMhJ_frL2aXNfCMjhEgyyncR7OXGqYGzmPpv6yQg1NR0ui9mEhcMdMpOrXEsXnIyi7tZ9Zg6z6FNY9bSHgGag/s320/images.jpeg" /></span></a><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">The route selection process is very tedious. There are lots of route mapping web pages. The one from Bing maps looks good but it's 38 pages long. We sat in the Diner yesterday where P suggested AAA. Great idea, they have all kinds of travel stuff, we paid already and it might be fun trying to figure out where the office may be. Our GPS took us right to the AAA office. They had 30 parking spaces, well marked and wide open. Hey that's a break, we should be able to great service. In and Out, nobody here. We walk in, exchange greetings with the nice lady at the counter and take a number as directed. As we stroll to the back of the office the lady calls us over and asks how can she be of service. She pulls map after map from her well stocked drawer, hands us a few large paperback TourBooks, CampBook and a pamphlet about Road Service options from AAA. Armed with all this literature in a slick AAA plastic bag we got back in the van, started our GPS and headed home.</span></div><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGWdJRmmsenJqV0LAHvPO9eEIvPMzbAUjgKXJp7dgOe9JBVC_iLGo1T-0QuCGeffJSgzYoeLSiEZqbbgPcHkY5VRd25Wu96HScTfdpEoV_-ekH7VP4DolbON-2MmW9EzLOpBiQxKVHjxg/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGWdJRmmsenJqV0LAHvPO9eEIvPMzbAUjgKXJp7dgOe9JBVC_iLGo1T-0QuCGeffJSgzYoeLSiEZqbbgPcHkY5VRd25Wu96HScTfdpEoV_-ekH7VP4DolbON-2MmW9EzLOpBiQxKVHjxg/s320/images.jpeg" /></span></a><br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Wait... GPS! We need maps why? No wonder they were not busy and so well stocked. I'll let you know how this goes.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></div>Mick Brennanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09878482559394566227noreply@blogger.com1