Category: Guest article


Geoff hat sich ne neue Karre gekauft, oder bessergesagt, hat er Craigs ehemalige Penisverlaengerung auf vier Raedern fuer einen guten Preis erstanden – Transaktion Marke “Deutschlernender erwirbt 4×4-Pickup-Truck von Surferdude”.

Mit ebendiesem Auto duesen wir gemeinsam zum Getty Museum, einem riesigen Komplex auf einem Berg nahe Beverly Hills. Parken kostet 10$, weswegen wir Kehrtwende machen und einfach in einer nahen Siedlungsstrasse parken – der Dollarkurs ist ja bekanntlich gefaehrlich stark gestiegen, sodass 10$ ploetzlich nicht mehr 0,03 Euro sondern ganze 0,1 Euro sind – Leute, wo bleibt die eben gerade noch so verlaessliche Kriegsinflation, wo ist die amerikanische Waehrungsimpotenz hin?
Fragen eines Europaeers, der gerade noch eben durch die Strassen lief und mit Dollarsacheinen um sich warf. Den Spass kann ich mir jetzt wohl nur noch in Kanada erlauben.

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Das Getty kostet keinen Eintritt, und hat eine eigene Art Zahnradbahn, die einen von der Talstation zum Museum bringt. Wenn man also gerne reisen tut, und nicht gerne zahlen taete, dann soll man einfach die Getty-Gerti auf-und abhobeln! Wir bekommen am Bahnsteig einen beidseitig vollgetexteten Flyer in die Hand gedrueckt, auf dem das Programm fuer nur diesesn einen Tag Platz hat; darunter finden sich Diskussionen von Wissernschaftlern und Philosophen, verschieden thematisierte Touren durch das Museum, Ausstellungen, Vortraege usw.
Ich bin von der Imposanz des Komplexes ueberwaeltigt; ohne Eintritt ein vollgepacktes Programm anzubieten, eine grossartige Architektur bereitzustellen, einen grandiosen Ausblick zu geben und dann noch eine Gratisfahrt mit der Getty-Getrude anzubieten: Unwahrscheinlich sexy. Falls der werte Leser einmal die Chance hat, in LA zu sein, ist das Getty ein must-see.


Der 4×4 – ein maechtiger Schlitten, der keine Randsteine kennt – Einparken kann man zweifellos auch auf einem anderen Auto oben drauf.


Soldatenfriedhof mitten in Westwood – da gehe ich gerne hin und schlecke Eiskrem


Die Getty-Gerti


Der Mann in der Bildmitte ist so beeindruckt, dass er seit 1964 dort steht, 400.000 Filme verschossen  und nebenbei eine halbe Glatze gekriegt hat


Yodel! That’s so tree.

Rechts vorne Century City, hinten links Downtown Los Angeles


Kaktusgarten des Getty


Kaktusgarten des Getty – der ist uebrigens um vieles groesser.


Ein Vortrag ueber uralter Kameras – am Anfang wars ja recht cool, aber dann … Geoff spricht fuer sich selbst.


Die Tschutschu-Bahn des Getty

PS: In Retrospektive auf meine ersten Eintraege merke ich, dass dieser Blog viel zu konservativ geworden ist. Mit sofortiger Wirkung ist die faule Gutbueblichkeit aufgehoben, und die Neuronen der werten Leser sollten sich ganz schnell Keuschheitsguertel zulegen, bevor es zu einem zynisch-extravaganten Brainfuck kommt.

Der letzte Tag am See. Als ich aufwache, sehe ich meine Reisekollegen eine Videokasette – ja, steinzietliche VHS, wie es uns aus Kindheitstagen in Erinnerung blieb – gucken.

Timecop“, mit Jean-Claudyboy.

Wir raunzen anfangs ueber die miserable Filmqualitaet und voellig uebertuenchte Erzaehlweise .. werden aber schnell in den tunnelartigen Bann des Jump&Run-Films gezogen. Die finale Szene: Der Boese bedroht die schwangere geliebte, Jean Claude kurz vor dem Ende, eine tickende Bombe, die ihm 10 Sekunden gibt, um seine Frau zu retten und das explodierende Gebaeude zu verlassen, und …!
Bluescreen. Kasette kaputt.
Wir schreien, weinen, spulen vor und zurueck, drehen die Kasette, spielen ein Stoo n’ Play-Stakkato – doch es hilft alles nichts. Dieser Film ist hinueber, ausgerechnet fuenf Minuten vor dem Schluss.
Keine Gnade dieser Blasphemie, so etwas ist inakzeptabel.

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Sündenbock Noun, German.
Sündenbock m. (genitive Sündenbocks, Sündenbockes, plural Sündenböcke)


Und fuer alle, die genauso angepisst waren, hier die Aufloesung

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12 Stunden lang im Auto, geht es wieder zurueck nach Montreal.


Wasserspeicher in Form von Atompilzen erhoehen die Samenproduktion von unmittelbar wohnenden, maennlichen Amerikanern zwischen 35 und 68 Jahren. In echt.


Das ist kein Photoshop-Filter, sondern n fahrendes Auto.


In Ottawa muss man den Leuten sagen, was die Bodenmarkierungen bedeuten. Ottawa ist die Regierungshauptstadt von Kanada.

Vier der Couchsurfer wollen noch einen Tag bleiben.. Cliff, der das ganze orghanisierte; Jeff, der Gitarrist, und Nick&Jenn, die auf dem Bild “Asscrack and Cleavage” zu sehen sind.
Und das ist ihnen genau an dem tag passiert, nachdem wir abgefahren sind.

Friends and family,

On Monday night I and 3 friends (Nick, Jen and Jeff)
cap-sized a row boat (with a 10 HP motor) on
Batchawana Bay (a large bay of Lake Superior in
Canada) while we were headed back to the main land at
8:40pm from a large deserted island in the middle of
the bay. We had to swim an hour or more to the island
since it was closer to shore. It was dark as we swam
the last half hour. Luckily we had the gas tank from
the boat and a lighter so that we could start a fire
on the island when we got there. My cell phone was
water logged and didn’t work (it still doesn’t work
after drying it out). We had no food or water. So we
slept and woke up every so often to keep the fire going
all night. In the morning we tried to start the motor
(Jeff and Nick actually swam the boat back to shore
against my pleading since it was dark, cold and
slow-going since it was upside down), but it too was
water logged. So my friend, Jeff, and I decided to
swim the 3 miles to the closest point on the mainland.
After two hours of swimming/floating some people on
shore heard our calls for help and came to our rescue.
We got back tonight, and are very lucky to have
survived with no one being seriously injured. Jeff
and I are suffering from mild hypothermia, but that’s
it. So many things could have gone wrong; it could
have rained, been a lot cooler than the unseasonably
warm weather for that time of year, higher waves while
Jeff and I swam, no gas or lighter, etc., etc. I am
very thankful. I just wanted everyone to know what
happened in this brief email since I cannot call
anyone and have a lot of people to inform of why I
haven’t been around for a few days. I will write a
long description of what happened soon. I will let
you know when I get a new cell, and the number won’t
change.

God Bless,
Cliff

http://www.WhereisCliff.com – Cliff’s Weltreise

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Der Zufall will es, dass Lorena – wir treffen sie zum ersten Mal in der Alligator-Story – auf eine katholische Maedchenschule geht. Und abgesehen von dem, was man von solchen Schulen sieht – kleine Maedchen in geilen Uniformen – bleiben die Geheimnisse meistens wohlgehuetet hinter dem Stacheldraht und Minenfeldbarrieren jener Schulen.
Ein tiefer Inside-Look in die moderne Maedchenschule, ein magenumdrehendes Achterbahnerlebnis der Leseskills. Wer sich schmutzige Klatschpresse-Geheimnisse erwartet, der sollte jetzt ganz schnell heisse Popcorn und kalte Cola holen… und diesen exzellenten, herzzerreissenden Artikel geniessen.

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by Lorena Martinez

First of all, people’s assumption is that girls at an all girl’s school are feminine and conservative. In reality, it’s probably the ways you would never want to see girls.
True, we do become more outspoken in classroom discussions and more comfortable with ourselves, since we don’t have any guys to impress or be intimidated by. But I think its safe to say that we become way too comfortable. The first thing that comes to mind when I say this is that fact that over half of the girls don’t shave on a regular basis. Sometimes, there are even contests to see who can go on without shaving the longest. It’s absolutely disgusting, but it’s true.

Another gross occurrence is athletic girls. For some reason some girls find it unnecessary to shower after their sport practices and show up to school the following day with the residue of the sweat form the previous night’s workout. Even girls that don’t do sports sometimes don’t shower for a few days and you can see the build-up-oil from their hair.
Let’s move on from hygiene to appearance.

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Uniforms

At my school, our school skirts are probably the shortest article of clothing 50% of the girls have – and for the other 50%, the longest. It is supposed to be enforced that our skirts are not to be more than 4 inches above our knees. And you would maybe think that because there are no boys, following this rule would be no problem… but for some reason, skirts are a lot shorter than they should be.
Last year, they even put the school logo on the skirt so we could only hem it to a certain point (the logo had to be still visible). Those of us who have been at the school long enough, have a bigger tolerance about boundaries – so we keep out skirts short.
In contrast to that, there are those girls whose skirts end where their knee socks start (which looks pathetic).

The first day of school, the skirts usually have an appropriate length, but as the year goes by, the same skirts get miraculously shorter. The secret key for not getting in trouble for your skirt length is: Being friends with all the teachers.

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On those rare and special days that we get to go to school without our uniforms are – surprisingly – the most stressful ones. You have to plan out your outfit because people will talk about your outfits. That’s when the girl bitchiness (GB) comes out. GB is – of course – the worst part of attending an all girls’ school. Every one takes everything personally; we talk shit about everyone, talk behind everyone’s back, and are completely two-faced. Although no-uniform-days can be embarrassing, they are far from the cruelty of what follows:

The worst of the worst days are PMS daysPre Menstrual Symptoms days.
A girl’s bitchiest, most emotional, sensitive days. You can say, these are the days of Ultra-GB. And since we all go through it, no one can really complain about it.
Although its overwhelming to have a group of bitches in their time of the month in the same room, it’s hilarious how you can walk into a class room and ask for a tampon and not care, or how you can ask for such things by just screaming it across the hall. Our poor male teachers have so much to put up with.
My English teacher (whom I call Mr. V. [name changed by Red.]) always complains about our behavior –

  • how girls sit with their legs wide open during class,
  • make gross noises,
  • don’t wear shorts under their skirts (so you can see everything when they walk up the stairs),
  • how girls find it necessary to scream vagina and penis randomly,
  • and how we take off half of our uniforms during lunch time to try to get tanned in the quad.

On of the most painful issues that male teachers have to put up with is the girls liking them. Last year there were four main victims: Mr. V. (in his 40’s, those few girls who don’t hate him, truly love him), Mr. C., (26 years old, tries to keep his personal life as personal as possible, but always gets himself in awkward situations), Hardy (a sexy guy from Washington – he was sexy until we found out that he broke up with his girlfriend on her birthday), and of course: Mr. K. (29 years old but looks like 20).
Although none of them are single, they are our obsession. For Mr. K.’s birthday, we baked him cakes, made him t-shirts and gave him balloons. And we all have files on our computers with pictures of him, there are even facebook albums dedicated to him. Mr. V. is the kind of bitch that you love to hate and hate to love. But I’m proud to love him. He crosses the line of teacher-student relationship all the time and has no filter to what he says. Even if he’s a British Literature teacher, I have learned from him more about life than anyone else. At the same time, I have been burned by him, he has called me retarded more than a few times and makes fun of me constantly. I used to take it personally – but we reached a point now where I just talk back to him and we get into one-on-one fights in the middle of class which always end with appreciation towards each other.

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Classroom environments in all-girl-schools are also quite unique. I myself have been to a co-ed (mixed genders) school and I must say that classes are equally as fun with or without boys. Our religion classes are probably the best.
In the Freshman year, the class was not very interesting since we mostly just talked about the bible (what a religion class in a catholic private school is probably considered to be).

Sophomore year however, we had the most amazing religion class: Love, Choices and Commitment (LCC).
Ask Toby, he read my complete LCC-notebook.

The first thing our teacher said to us was: “I’m not here to tell you sex is bad. Trust me, sex is wonderful, and it feels FANTASTIC!” And so the year begun.
In that class we learned all about boys and how they “are visual creatures”. She told us that in school dances and comparable events we should ‘leave room for Jesus’. For ten days, we even had so-called “Egg babies” – non-cooked eggs that represented infants. You had to carry them around in a basket and take care of them; for the record, I had twin boys (with no sexually transmitted diseases, luckily enough)! Our teacher was a little too obsessed with sex, but it made the class unforgettable.

When the Junior year came, my theology class transformed to Contemporary Moral Issues. In this class my teacher would talk about how useless men are, due to a trauma she has from her personal love life. She would constantly make fun of a Viagra commercial she saw a lot.
Despite this dedication, my most sexual class last year was my English class, in which Mr. V. called us his “cheeky little monkeys”, and the most frequently used word was “BANG”. We even had to start calling that class “Vegas” to insure that what happened there, stayed there.

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Another misconception is that girls at an all girl’s school never interact with boys. In reality: that’s all we talk about. Boys are the central conversation topic for every day, every class example, every everything. And if any guy steps onto our campus (even if he’s completely Quasimodo-ugly), every girl is bond to find out within 3 minutes .. at max. Every year we have a college all-boy’s band come sing to us and this event tends to end in chaos. All the girls freak out, scream, and attack the band members afterwards. It’s absolutely ridiculous and fabulous.

When the everyday dismissal bell rings, don’t even think about going to the bathroom. Every single inch of the bathroom will be occupied by girls putting on make up to see boys and boyfriends after school. It’s quite a sight. And then, when you walk outside our school campus, there are boys with flowers waiting for the girls since they aren’t allowed to enter the campus. One of the ways a girl’s popularity can be proven is if on Valentines day she gets candy or flowers delivered to her at school.

Apart from our favorite issue – boys, the other central topic is food. We all talk about how we need to lose weight and should become anorexic for 2 weeks…
but in reality we eat like there is no tomorrow.
For birthdays, the food of choice are always doughnuts, and girls will eat about 2 sometimes three. Then during break, we indulge ourselves with our freshly baked chocolate chips or the notorious $1.25 cafeteria cookies. During lunch, the vending machine gets completely empty – guaranteed – and the cafeteria is packed. Finally after school, you will find 1/3 of my school at the Rite-Aid across the street getting ice-cream, chips, and a shit load of junk food.

Of course as we eat, all we talk about is boys.

Special Events

In my school, special events consist of fun-school days and dances. Our fun days are welcome day and spirit week (and then there are church days which we all dread). Pep rallies are probably the funnest days because each class has a designated color – we all dress in that color and cheer up the sports team for that particular season. We put face paint on and although we still have to wear our school skirts, we try to go as all-out as possible. At the end of the day, we all sound like old men from all the screaming and every single person has a head ache.

Then events like welcome day and such is when each class including the faculty comes up with a theme and perform skits and singsongs. Basically, the reason I now love welcome day is because of last year’s faculty skit. The teachers acted out Elmo‘s first day in school, and Elmo was played by Mr. C. (the 26 year old male teacher). Well, Elmo wore tight red pants, and let’s just say … Elmo got excited. It was the talk of the school for the first month.

Finally, the dances. The two big ones are winter formal and prom. This is when we have to act like the ‘gentlemen’. We have to pay for the $50-100 tickets, the limos and the after parties. For this the girls do shave, take showers and you will see a school wide attempt of dieting a few weeks prior to the event. Half of the girls bring a guy and the other girl’s go ‘stag’. During the dance, the teachers will interrupt a passionately dancing couple and remind them to leave space for Jesus.

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So basically…
Attending an all-girls-private-catholic school is extremely entertaining. We can get away with saying mostly anything and we can do so many things that we won’t even consider doing in the presence of boys. Today was my first day of school, and the first thing the girl I drove to school said was: Oh, my legs are so hairy today. Arriving to school was chaotic, with everyone screaming and running around. Meeting the new teachers was fun, of course and the summer rumors began to travel around campus. During break, I had my first bite of the cafeteria cookies which was delicious. Leaving school, I saw a bunch of boys waiting outside the gate … and so the year starts again in its good old fashion.

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Well, not completely, to be honest.
This year, the uniform rules are being enforced with dramatically increaseing tough love. Every teacher has been told to give students (with uniform violations) detention.
Detention at my school, by the way,  means that you have to go to a class room for an hour after school, and during these 60 minutes, you are not allowed to do anything. If you fall asleep or even close your eyes, you are told to return another day for another detention.

Anyways, this year the teachers are litterally walking around with rulers, measuring the skirt lengths, with a stack of detention forms in their hands. If our skirts are too short, we have to go to the deans office, and trade our too-short skirts with hers, which are significantly longer. This very new year the dean walks into classrooms randomly to do a a lineup of all the girls and test their skirt length . Every time she walks in, I have to adjust my skirt from my waist to my hips. And our new ‘motivation’ to wear proper uniform is a free-dress day at the end of each quarter. Other rules being enforced are tucked-in oxford shirts, and knee socks on Wednesdays.
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Meine jungen und alten Kollegen beim Museum of Tolerance waren aufgeschlossene Menschen, weise Menschen, lustige Menschen, liebenswerte Menschen, es war wie eine Familie. Dass ich als schwarzes Schaf das Land verlassen musste, heisst nicht, dass ich alle Straenge reissen liess.

Und ueberraschenderweise kam ich, kurz vor meinem Rauswurf, auf die Idee, Dinge zu zeichnen. Typischer Ruhe-ver-dem-Sturm-Komplex. Imaginaere Dinge. Alles begann wohl mit den Kindern, als ich eines Tages die Idee zu einem Witz hatte.

Wir befinden uns vor der Rotunda, und ich bin dabei, die Kinder hinunterzufuehren.
“You see this rotunda there? Okay, we will now go to the exhibit level, roundabout 2000 feet downstairs. i hope you all have good shoes, because it’s a hard walk.”
Ich sehe pruefend die Schuhe der Kinder an. Sie sehen veraengstigt zur Rotunda. 2000 Fuss, das ist eine Million!
“Ah, I’m just kidding with you guys, it’s one level… follow me!”

Tja, und eines Tages wird es Wirklichkeit.


Toby’s Vision: The new Exhibit, 40th Level underground

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Als ich mit Monica an einem Tisch sass, zeigte ich ihr die Zeichnung.
“Nice”, sagte sie und schob sie mir wieder zurueck.
“What do you imagine in the museum?”
“how do you mean ‘imagine in the museum’?”
“What is your dream about the museum.”
“Well … let me think … yes, kids, the kids .. they have Jetpacks.” – und dann steht sie ploetzlich auf und geht.
Sie machte das immer. Mich einfach stehen lassen.


Monica’s Vision: The Kids have Jetpacks

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“Alex, what would be your vision of the Museum?”
“Hmm … we need .. sport … we need something like a box ring and bike trails in here, yes, more sports.”


Alex’ Vision: The Museum of sporty Tolerance
Captions:
-the security cave
-the bike lane of hope
-the running track against fear
-the wrestling ring of peace
-the weights of prejudice
-the plunge of arrogance
-the rock climbing wall to become a tourguide and get certified
-the hole of intolerance
-the giftshop robbing your piggybank and the powerbar of nonviolence
-the floating orientation
-the pool of group pressure
-the ping-pong of diplomacy

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In der Mitte der Rotunda einen Baum mit einem Wasserbecken und Klappsitzen an der Wand zu haben, ist eines jeden Tourguide’s Traum. Zumindest war es meiner.


Toby’s Vision: The Tree of Tolerance

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Wer nicht erfinderisch ist, hat in seinem Leben nichts getan.
Und auch wenn die folgende Idee sicher einigen Tourguides geholfen haette, ihren Gruppen Verhaltensregeln ohne viel Widerstand, aber mit schnellem Verstaendnis beizubringen … naja, ihr wisst schon.


One of the most inspired goodbye presents I have ever got from anyone – there are so many efforts and passion in this picture… Thank you, Sharky.

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Diese Zeichnung hat er mir gegeben, als ich LA verlassen habe. Darin stecken so viele Stunden Arbeit..
Wenn du Sharky auf der Strasse treffen wuerdest, haettest du wahrscheinlich Angst. Weil er wie ein Gangster aussieht. Auch wenn er wie ein Gangster aussehen mag, und einst einer war, gibt es keinen Zweifel daran, dass er einer der interessantesten Menschen ist, die ich je getroffen habe.
Willst du etwas ueber das Leben lernen, dann sprich mit Sharky.

College types 21-28 for pie in the face short (los angeles)


Reply to: gigs-712579676@craigslist.org
Date: 2008-06-08, 2:32PM PDT

Looking for college types for a short about frat guys getting pied in their face in an old fashioned slapstick film. This will be a very funny short video BUT it is also intended as a FETISH video for guys who like to see guys get a pie in the face. Most people watching it would just think its a funny video though. if that’s OK with you then please submit. We are shooting ion sunday the 22nd and the pay is $75.

  • Location: los angeles
  • it’s NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
  • Compensation: 75

PostingID: 712579676

Ich verbrauche jede Woche ca. 2 volle Tankfuellungen. LA versinkt in der Smogsuppe, und keiner kommt, um sie auszuloeffeln. Im Museum trinken wir aus Styroporbechern, und kein Sack schert sich drum, eine Recyclingbox aufzustellen. Das Leitungswasser schmeckt nach Chlor, und das Wetter laesst Waldbraende und Erdbeben auf sich warten – ein Nachruf, obwohl Fraeulein Natur noch am Leben ist…:

by Joshua Hall (Uncle Fester)

When it comes to our treatment of this planet, I doubt we will ever get our deposit back. In case you have missed all the wretched news, let me take the time to summarize:

1. The earth is about a week and a half from destruction. Scientists are divided and none are sure of the causes. In a recent report in Scientific American Magazine covering the 2007 assessment by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, (IPCC), scientists are confident that humans have interfered with the climate and more human-induced climate change is on the way. In other words further climatic change is now inevidentable especially considering that the principal driver of recent climate change is greenhouse gas emissions from human activities, primarily the burning of fossil fuels.(coal, oil, natural gas, etc.)

2. If we all were to act responsibly the Earth will be fresh and pure, and then it will continue killing us with earthquakes, floods, hurricanes, tornadoes, volcanic eruptions, mud slides, and untold large caliber rocks from the black abyss of space.

3. In order to make sure you do not hurt the earth any more than you already
have, it is probably best if the human race dies off at the earliest possible opportunity.

You are probably taken aback somewhat on the third point. This is typical. It is just the same selfish instinct that has gotten us in trouble in the first place.
If you have a pressing reason for sticking around, you can at least make a few sacrifices. And I don’t mean feeding Aunt Sophia to the Venus flytrap. The experts say you can “GO Green”.
For instance, you can recycle: Aluminum cans come to mind. In
California, recycling Aluminum cans pays about $1.50 to $1.90 a pound. Every day Americans empty enough aluminum cans to fill a modern sports stadium thirty times over and only a fraction are recycled. Of these, 77percent have cigarette butts in them, which may explain why Pepsi tastes funkier as time goes on. ( I was wandering why nobody wants you to smoke cigarettes anymore.)

When the weather is nice, Mother Nature sleeps. When she awakens, Mother Nature congers storms and plays skittles with our town houses and trailer parks. The human race has been recklessly blowing smoke in her face for 150 years. I have a question. What do you think would happen?

Global warming will change where people will live, how they grow their food and how people will treat each other. Let’s hope and pray that Sudden Catastrophic Weather Change isn’t the method Mother Nature chooses to globally warm.(believe me that would leave a mark.

Der erste Gastbeitrag in diesem Blog. Erinnert ihr euch noch an die Obdachlosen aus Santa Barbara? Einer von ihnen, Josh, hatte einen Laptop. Wir schrieben ein paar Emails hin und her, und ich fragte ihn, ob er nicht einen Gastbeitrag schreiben wollte, da er selbst Kurzgeschichten verfasst. Hier ist seine Story ueber die Geschichten, die das Leben schreibt, und das harte Leben eines Mannes:

As a man ages there comes a time when he assesses his life to discover and relish in the glories and grand adventures that he has managed to live.

Trouble is, He has lived a life of petty importance, endless melancholy and dogged boredum.

In his teens boredom led him to drink beer and laugh hysterically at lighting his own farts. In his twenties endless melancholy drove him to drink beer, play pong on a commodore pet computer, and beg for sex at every opportunity.

Then he gets married and petty importance drove him to drink beer, play pong on a commodore 64 computer, and beg for sex at every opportunity.

At some point along this process the beer ain’t working so the older fellow dumps the beer out and buys a really cool sports car. (So why is it that only old guys have cool sports cars? Cause they are idiots that think that reliving their youth can be better done the second time around.)

The better strategy for getting through this period is embellishment. Here is how it works.

Real story:

While attending Shop Class in high school, the teacher was droning on about safety precautions with tanks filled with 1750kilo/cm3 of pressure. …”if you were to accidentally break off the nozzle it would go through the wall like a rocket.” Now this rocket idea was verrrry interesting. So I stole one of the o2 cans and took it and a large hammer out back of the school . I beat on that valve must have been twenty times and then it just barely broke, sent the tank a spinning and the stupid thing slammed into my leg and broke it. I ended up in a whimpering heap and had to be rescued by the school nurse.

Embellished Version:

While attending Shop Class in high school, the teacher was droning on about safety precautions with tanks filled with 1750kilo/cm3 of pressure. …”if you were to accidentally break off the nozzle it would go through the wall like a rocket.”

He should have never said the word “ROCKET”

That afternoon I stole one of the o2 cans and with a 12 lb. Sledge hammer set the tank up on a perfectly tilted rock. With one mighty swing the nozzle winged away and the tank took off at a great speed out over the field. It was beautiful… until it lost is stability and started spinning in an arc across and over top of Mr. Johns dairy cows.

The question at the pub a few days later was concerned with why Johns cows have quit milking for a week.

During the very next class, the same teacher was talking about acetylene, were as he said that acetylene gas was lighter than air and if you were to fill a balloon with this gas it would rise into the air…

He should have never said the word “ BALLOON… “

So as you can see the embellished version has more honor, bravery and bravado. Certainly the only reasonable action of a man of my caliber.


Therein in lies the real problem, as a man ages he tends to remember only the embellished versions and totally forgets what really happened.

HOWEVER, he is still an man who is living a petty life of boredom and melancholy. So you find old men sitting on the porch drinking a beer and telling old remembrances of honor, bravery and bravado.

… you wonder why old ladies talk about old men.

But that is another embellishment (oops, I mean story…)

Joshua Hall