On Halliburton, Razor Blades and Sweet Tea:
Thought for the Day:
Doubt 'til thou canst doubt no more...doubt is thought and thought is life. Systems which end doubt are devices for drugging thought.
Albert Guerard
This Just In:
“Sewer rat does in fact taste just like Pumpkin Pie!”
Public Service Announcement:
At the Request of both Dusty http://www.abriefsecond.blogspot.com/ and the compassionate and animal loving Mrs. JQP:
http://www.uan.org/
Go help save some pets form the disaster.
On Bush and Tall Cotton:
Ok, I have pretty much kept my mouth shut on the topic of the hurricane (well, unless you have run into me after I have a beer or two in me, I find that there are very few things I keep my mouth shut about under those circumstances).
However since everyone has been talking about it non-stop I think its time I jump in. First, a long time ago, I once worked for the Red Cross and have been to my share of disasters, folks let me fill you in on a little known fact, they are called "disasters" not "bad days" for a reason.
Things are fucked up. Its always a pissing contest to see who is in charge of what and who can do what. That being said, things normally work out in the end, not the way the victims want them to, but to the best available.
However, this has been a cluster-fuck from the get go. Hell, I remember talking about this same event when I was in that business. Yes, has the media has made you aware a lot of good people who know their ass from a hole in the ground have been working this problem for a long time, it’s just that no one gave a shit (talking about bad shit that could happen is bad for business, dont you know). We got caught flat footed and with our pants down, and as always it’s the poor who are getting screwed the hardest.
Now the old boy from FEMA, you know the guy whose last job was heading up the American Arabian Horse Asst. resigned. The thing that gets me is that people are surprised that someone that incompetent was calling the shots in the absence of leadership from Washington/Texas (now in W’s defense its hard to lead when your hiding from a mother down at the end of your drive way).
Folks, all we had to do to see how well this administration plans is look at our win in Iraq. One hell of a win, at least this disaster has pushed the troops getting killed daily off the front page. Obviously, to anyone who has ever watched more than four hours of the History Channel these folks have no clue.
Planning anything more than a fund-raiser or a tax cut for the top 10% of the national population and these ol’ boys are in over their head (the simple questions, …what if? …and then? has never occurred to them).
Well, anyway there is at least some constancy; I noticed that Halliburton & Company, have already gotten some no-bid contacts.
Like Forest Gump, that all I got to say about that.
On having Fun with Puberty:
I hate shaving, that’s why since 1990 in have had a beard or goatee (goatee since the beautiful and assertive Mrs. JQP came into my life, with the edict the beard=no-sex) with the exception of when I was called back up to protect and defend the interests of this great nation. This came home for me this morning when I cut myself shaving, noticing it of course only after I had blood all over my white shirt.
Like I said, I hate shaving.
One of the rituals a boy looks forward to is shaving just like dad. I remember when I grew my first two hairs on my chin, first thing I did was rush down stairs lock myself in the bathroom and grab the old-man’s safety razor. I always wondered why they call them safety razors, because there is nothing safe about the 1948 model he used.
Needless to say I cut the holy-hell out of my face. So much in fact my mother later said “it looked like someone was butchering chickens in the sink”.
The sight I made on my exit from the water-closet with about half a roll of toilet paper stuck to my face, in a vain effort to stop the flow of blood, was quite amusing to my family as they sat enjoying breakfast, in fact causing my mother to spit out her coffee. Such is the compassion of a close knit family unit as ours.
I might add this was the first day of Jr. High (see how old I am, we called it Jr. High, not Middle School). …and so started, the first day of the most trauma-rich period of anyone’s educational career. I was quickly known as the "kid-who-looked-like-he-got-shot-with-a-shotgun-in-the-face".
On the Middle-Ages:
Often people are surprised at my age. They either think I am younger or older, which I guess depends on the circumstances of our meeting, I can and often do act very grown-up, however being a Gemini there is always that ever present duality of self.
In the past two years I have had the fact that I have purposely packed a lot of living into my years on this earth brought home to me. Those of you old enough might recall the old Navy recruitment adds, they went something like “in the Navy we do more before 7am than most people do all day”.
Well, I JQP esq. have done more before the age of 40 (yes, well under 40) than most 12 people do in a lifetime. This in fact is not a bit of idle bragging; it’s more of a lament. I know how Alexander the Great felt when it’s said he sat down a wept because there were no new lands to conquer.
That and the side effects of a life well lived are catching up with me. In the past two years, two knee surgeries, one knee transplant (God Bless Texas) a broken wrist and hand (it happened in a fall, not mine), a broken jaw along with 3 bones in my skull (I didn’t know I had three bones in my skull and yes, my sweet and loving wife was right, I should not of played in my alumni rugby game) a major reoccurrence of malaria (in the tropics always take the blue pills, like they tell you to), also few weeks ago stitches in my nose due to a dog bite. Last but not least add to that an over all cynical disposition.
But it’s the little things that get you, that really bring home the fact that you are not 18 anymore. For instance the day I was trimming my Elvis style mutton chops and noticed that try as I might I could not seem to trim this one hair. That’s when I realized much to my horror that it was growing out of my ear, over night I had become my grandfather, one of those men with hairy ears and I had thought getting gray hairs on my back was bad enough.
Brothers and sisters growing old sucks unless you’re rich, if you’re rich in my experience there are very few things that suck.
Today’s Bill:
Leave her to heaven
And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge,
To prick and sting her.
William Shakespeare, "Hamlet", Act 1 scene 5
Greatest English dramatist & poet (1564 - 1616)
Quote of the Day:
My definition of an expert in any field is a person who knows enough about what's really going on to be scared.
P. J. Plauger, Computer Language, March 1983
I remain much like Crack-Head the rejected Muppet:
JQP esq.
Doubt 'til thou canst doubt no more...doubt is thought and thought is life. Systems which end doubt are devices for drugging thought.
Albert Guerard
This Just In:
“Sewer rat does in fact taste just like Pumpkin Pie!”
Public Service Announcement:
At the Request of both Dusty http://www.abriefsecond.blogspot.com/ and the compassionate and animal loving Mrs. JQP:
http://www.uan.org/
Go help save some pets form the disaster.
On Bush and Tall Cotton:
Ok, I have pretty much kept my mouth shut on the topic of the hurricane (well, unless you have run into me after I have a beer or two in me, I find that there are very few things I keep my mouth shut about under those circumstances).
However since everyone has been talking about it non-stop I think its time I jump in. First, a long time ago, I once worked for the Red Cross and have been to my share of disasters, folks let me fill you in on a little known fact, they are called "disasters" not "bad days" for a reason.
Things are fucked up. Its always a pissing contest to see who is in charge of what and who can do what. That being said, things normally work out in the end, not the way the victims want them to, but to the best available.
However, this has been a cluster-fuck from the get go. Hell, I remember talking about this same event when I was in that business. Yes, has the media has made you aware a lot of good people who know their ass from a hole in the ground have been working this problem for a long time, it’s just that no one gave a shit (talking about bad shit that could happen is bad for business, dont you know). We got caught flat footed and with our pants down, and as always it’s the poor who are getting screwed the hardest.
Now the old boy from FEMA, you know the guy whose last job was heading up the American Arabian Horse Asst. resigned. The thing that gets me is that people are surprised that someone that incompetent was calling the shots in the absence of leadership from Washington/Texas (now in W’s defense its hard to lead when your hiding from a mother down at the end of your drive way).
Folks, all we had to do to see how well this administration plans is look at our win in Iraq. One hell of a win, at least this disaster has pushed the troops getting killed daily off the front page. Obviously, to anyone who has ever watched more than four hours of the History Channel these folks have no clue.
Planning anything more than a fund-raiser or a tax cut for the top 10% of the national population and these ol’ boys are in over their head (the simple questions, …what if? …and then? has never occurred to them).
Well, anyway there is at least some constancy; I noticed that Halliburton & Company, have already gotten some no-bid contacts.
Like Forest Gump, that all I got to say about that.
On having Fun with Puberty:
I hate shaving, that’s why since 1990 in have had a beard or goatee (goatee since the beautiful and assertive Mrs. JQP came into my life, with the edict the beard=no-sex) with the exception of when I was called back up to protect and defend the interests of this great nation. This came home for me this morning when I cut myself shaving, noticing it of course only after I had blood all over my white shirt.
Like I said, I hate shaving.
One of the rituals a boy looks forward to is shaving just like dad. I remember when I grew my first two hairs on my chin, first thing I did was rush down stairs lock myself in the bathroom and grab the old-man’s safety razor. I always wondered why they call them safety razors, because there is nothing safe about the 1948 model he used.
Needless to say I cut the holy-hell out of my face. So much in fact my mother later said “it looked like someone was butchering chickens in the sink”.
The sight I made on my exit from the water-closet with about half a roll of toilet paper stuck to my face, in a vain effort to stop the flow of blood, was quite amusing to my family as they sat enjoying breakfast, in fact causing my mother to spit out her coffee. Such is the compassion of a close knit family unit as ours.
I might add this was the first day of Jr. High (see how old I am, we called it Jr. High, not Middle School). …and so started, the first day of the most trauma-rich period of anyone’s educational career. I was quickly known as the "kid-who-looked-like-he-got-shot-with-a-shotgun-in-the-face".
On the Middle-Ages:
Often people are surprised at my age. They either think I am younger or older, which I guess depends on the circumstances of our meeting, I can and often do act very grown-up, however being a Gemini there is always that ever present duality of self.
In the past two years I have had the fact that I have purposely packed a lot of living into my years on this earth brought home to me. Those of you old enough might recall the old Navy recruitment adds, they went something like “in the Navy we do more before 7am than most people do all day”.
Well, I JQP esq. have done more before the age of 40 (yes, well under 40) than most 12 people do in a lifetime. This in fact is not a bit of idle bragging; it’s more of a lament. I know how Alexander the Great felt when it’s said he sat down a wept because there were no new lands to conquer.
That and the side effects of a life well lived are catching up with me. In the past two years, two knee surgeries, one knee transplant (God Bless Texas) a broken wrist and hand (it happened in a fall, not mine), a broken jaw along with 3 bones in my skull (I didn’t know I had three bones in my skull and yes, my sweet and loving wife was right, I should not of played in my alumni rugby game) a major reoccurrence of malaria (in the tropics always take the blue pills, like they tell you to), also few weeks ago stitches in my nose due to a dog bite. Last but not least add to that an over all cynical disposition.
But it’s the little things that get you, that really bring home the fact that you are not 18 anymore. For instance the day I was trimming my Elvis style mutton chops and noticed that try as I might I could not seem to trim this one hair. That’s when I realized much to my horror that it was growing out of my ear, over night I had become my grandfather, one of those men with hairy ears and I had thought getting gray hairs on my back was bad enough.
Brothers and sisters growing old sucks unless you’re rich, if you’re rich in my experience there are very few things that suck.
Today’s Bill:
Leave her to heaven
And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge,
To prick and sting her.
William Shakespeare, "Hamlet", Act 1 scene 5
Greatest English dramatist & poet (1564 - 1616)
Quote of the Day:
My definition of an expert in any field is a person who knows enough about what's really going on to be scared.
P. J. Plauger, Computer Language, March 1983
I remain much like Crack-Head the rejected Muppet:
JQP esq.
posted by John Q. Public esq. at 2:20 AM
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