"I do have this other image of some of your grating."
"I want it gone as well."
I think it got deleted as well. I just wanted to get away from this lady and her band of merry men.
She wanted to know why I was doing this, what enjoyment can I possibly get out of doing this, and again she said she was going to get her camera. I asked her if she wanted to take a picture of Me.
"No."
Well, then I knew she was crazy. I am walking away from her and she is still going on about what enjoyment could I be getting out of this.
I said. "Well, I guess I am Crazy." I asked her if she knew about Photo Blogs.
She gave me a blank stare. I asked her if she knew about the Internet.
"I am very wise about the Internet." I gave up. I was getting no where and My golden Hour was dwindling down to a few minutes. I finally got away from her. I saw a neat image a few feet further and turned back to her.
"Look I'm Taking a picture. You better call the cops."
I turned the corner at the end of the Block and though how it must going to be a full moon out tonight.
One of my first cooking jobs was at a place called Coachlight Inn. It was an amazing place to cook at because the cooks worked right out in the resturaunt. There were tables in front of and in back of the cooks staion. The cooks staion had a huge Broiler, a nice size saute station, a Microwave and then Refrigerators under the workstation. There was a shelf that ran the length of the sation that the plates were placed on as they were ready to go and the food was plated. At each end of the sation were holders for the plates with springs below them that clean plates were stacked on. It was a great setup and who ever thought it out did their home work cause it worked great.
One advantage to this setup was seeing how the customers were progressing through their salad so you had a good idea of when to plate their food, if it was ready. But also, if you ever dropped a steak (It does happen), you were busted big time, so you didn't drop any steaks.
One night, the busboys were placing about 4 tables together right behind the workstaion in the middle of the resturaunt. This would happen every now and then, but not very often. At about 7:30, this one guy came in and set down at one end of the table. He looked, well, very plain. He had thick glasees, a pale complexion and a ratty looking suit on with a thin black tie and a white shirt. Just plain as all get out. I'll call him Fred. Maybe 1/2 hour later a few more people showed up, but they didn't sit next to Fred. In fact they sat in the middle of this long table. Ok, nothing wrong with that. Now as soon as they showed up, these people started ordering Drinks like crazy. Fred was drinking Ice tea, alone. He smiled at the people and a few of them actually spoke in his direction every now and then. More people slowly showed up and the table finally filled up, with probably 25 people or so at this long table.
Salads were served and the food order was finally brought to us. The owner of the resturaunt probably loved this bunch, for they pretty much had the cream of the crop off the rather expensive menu. Lots of Brooiled lobster with steak and prime rib combinations. Shrimp Scampi aplenty. Even a nice round of appetizers before hand.
What was a bit odd about that night was that the rest of the Dinning was rather slow. So it was easy to kind of keep trrack of what transpired at this long table. Also, I have long enjoyed seeing people and trying to figure out their relationship was with one another. Most of these people were dresed very nice. I was told that a few of them had showed up in a Limo. Much talking and drinking went on. As the liquoir flowed they became louder and laughter ensued.
Except for Fred. He basically sat there at the end of the table and smiled. He seemed to enjoy what was happening at the table, but he really wasn't part of the table. He sat there quietly and drank his Ice tea. He didn't partake in the salads or the Appetizers. His hands were interlaced as he sat there quietly. He finaly got his meal, a Hambuger Loaf, the cheapest thing on the Menu.
They finally quit eating and the plates were cleared and then a cake was brought out. It had apperently been Fred's last days at his jobs and his coworkers were throwing him a going away party. Many of the people left right after the song had finished for Fred. Here he sat with this huge cake in front of him and only one person stayed long enough to eat a piece of cake. It was sort of sad.
Then the Lady finished her cake and actually came down to Fred and shook his hand and sad Good bye to him and few other things. It dawned on me that she was the only one. No one else hardly even looked his way as they left. Then the really odd thing happened.
The waitress walked over to Fred and presented him with the check He reached for his wallet and paid cash. Then the waitress boxed up the cake and gave it to Fred and he left our building.
Fred had paid for everything these people ate and drank. Everything. I didn't find out what the bill was but it was sizable. He paid to have his own going away party. Amazing.
I have to sit back and wonder about some of my fellow bloggers. Really. Wonder. Forget those that have the normal or nearly normal or maybe not anywhere near normal problems that they face in their daily or some what daily postings. What I am talking about today is a lady that I admire greatly for her blogging skills. She has a fantastic sense of humor and I even interviewed her once. I am talking about The Junk Drawer. Kathy recently gave a birthday party for a bag. A plastic bag. She even took pictures of the cake. Kathy, step away from the correction fluid, please.
I realize that we have to get creative from time to time and embellish the truth some what in order to make the bland and dreary seem somewhat exciting, but she doesn't even own this bag, never has, never will. It's stuck in a tree near her office and she has been keeping tabs on how long this particular bag is up in this tree. So apparently after eyeing this bag for 365 days, what else, but throw a party for the bag.
So she posts about the party and has pictures and I post about her post.
This is from 2005 talking about the 2006 season. I need to see if I can Find anything about weather this is still going on. Personally, I think these guys need their heads examined. I snagged this from Is a Man's World.
Now that he is in the 6th grade, He is the laughing stock oh his school because he is in a diaper. Couldn't they have at least put clothes on the poor kid.
I don't know why it lately, but the topics of Boobs has been seen by me lately, at least the 3 days. So following in that trend, I'll give it a go.
I worked at a small Hospital in the linen room many years ago (yes, a different career) and with that Job, I got to go into every department of that hospital at least once a day and some departments got a visit by me 3 or more times a day.
One of the departments I visited 3 times a day, every day, was the ICU department. This was the Intensive care, where you really were supposed to be very sick and in dire need to get in there. They, the nurses, really didn't have much of a sense of humor there with difficult patients.
So I was in one of the departments (they had 2 sides) and was trying to figure out what was going on in a bed just opposite from the linen cart. There apparently was a young black man in cardiac arrest and he was being rushed by any number of nurses to try and save his life. They had already placed a hard stiff back board behind him and one of the younger nurses was climbing up on the bed to give him cardiac compression.
Now, if this is done correctly, it is nothing like what you see in movies, for you can get broken ribs from this procedure. That is how hard these pros are pressing on your chest. They are trying to squeeze your heart through your chest cavity and trying to compress your heart on your spine.
It is serious folks. Life or death for sure.
So this young nurse is now straddling this guy and proceeds to press in on his chest. Right then, he reaches up and grabs a hand full with each hand. The guy is now laughing, but not for long.
The nurse reared back and slapped the guy right across the face. I heard the slap all the way across the room. I'm guessing the guy was in his early 20's.
She jumped down off this fool and was cussing him out the whole way. Apparently, he disconnected the wiring to his monitor I guess, he faked a straight line somehow, and here were 5 or 6 nurses staring daggers at this guy. He's asking why they didn't think that was funny. 3 of the nurses wheeled around and let him know in no uncertain terms.
Before I begin with the scheduled post I came across this and thought I would pass it along. I left one of 200 comments on her temporary blog. Tis a shame.
So, one of the other guys came over and gave me a quick run through on the pizza making process and on Ann. I never bothered to ask her again to make me a pizza and she was probably happy I didn't.
The main Job I had there was to deliver Pizza in the mid 70's in Bakersfield, California. I certainly had some memorable moments from that job. I have written about these experiences in the past and wish I had access to them now so I could just copy and paste, But I shall post them fresh for you guys.
One time that comes to mind was a delivery I had to start off my day. I had probably been doing this job for about 6 months and thought I had seen quite a bit in the Pizza delivery business in good old Bakersfield. Was I wrong. The address took me to a bar off off what is now known as Buck Owens Blvd. (Yep, named after the singer - a local legend) Now this was about 2 o'clock in the afternoon. It was hot and steamy, typical for summer here. I had a 1965 Ford Mustang with 289 cubic inches under the hood and an automatic that I drove the dog you know what out of. It was a great car. Anyway. I walked in the front door and came to an area by the counter. There was a line of Bar stools that were mostly empty. I didn't even really look around. I was on a mission.
Get the money and get to my next delivery.
I could tell it was going to be a busy day.
I stood at the counter admiring the huge collection of liquor being present against a huge mirror when this voice came to me from the stool next to me. I looked over then looked down. Here was this old drunk man with out hardly any hair or teeth staring up at me. He must have weighed about 100 pounds sopping wet and was about 5 feet tall.
Here I was, 6 foot 2 inches tall, weighing in at a good 270 pounds, hair past my shoulders, mustache, 17 years old, in a damn bar with a damn near toothless dude asking me sumpin'.
I asked Him "What did you say?"
"I want to dance with you." I listened as I heard Tammy Winette was wailing about D-I-V-O-R-C-E, God, how I truly disliked that song. Hardly a song I could dance to with a chick, must less this guy.
I turned and shined him on. Where the heck is the person that ordered this pizza? He said it again only louder. Now he was standing, sort of. More like trying not to fall down.
"I want to dance with you. Your pretty." I looked at him in Disbelief. "I like your hair."
"Nah, that's all right" I heard other bars stools scraping against the wooden floor.
"He wants to dance with you. I think you otta." This loud gruff voice came booming at me. I looked over at these 3 huge dirty oilfield workers as they were walking around this old man. One guy was pumping His fist into his hand. Apparently, they heard our little conversation over the great singing of Tammy and were wanting to contribute their thoughts on the matter at hand. Damn, that song lasted a long time.
I swallowed hard.
"Look guys, I just want to deliver this pizza and get my money and get the hell out of here, ok?"
"Nope, you going to dance with this old man."
I was about to get my arse royally stomped for my long hair and because some old drunk fool had a hankering to swing the light fantastic with me. The one guy still had his dirty yellow hard hat on and the others were damn near bald with their extremely short hair cuts. See, back then, that meant trouble for long hairs, Hippys, as these guys would refer to us as. We were scum in their eyes and deserved a good butt chewing or kicking any time it was made available.
"Guys, Look ..." I am now turned facing them with my palms pointed at them pleading my case. I'm thinking good luck with this, 4 extremely drunk guys in a bar on then Pierce Road In Redneck Bakersfield. This Job is not paying me this much to put up with this.
Click ... Click
I heard two rounds getting loaded into the chamber of a shot gun. Here was the bartender coming around from behind the bar to save the day. Thank God.
This Bartender informed these drunk sob's that I was just going to get my money from him and I was going to leave pronto.
"Isn't that right, young fella?" He had the shotgun leveled at the gut of the one closest to me. But It was a sawed off shot gun and with the way that thing would spray, he'd probably hit all five of us, including me.
I said "That's right." He threw me some dollar bills, I grabbed the money, dropped the pizza on the counter and left like there was no tomorrow. And then just to top it off, this song was playing on the stereo in my car as I burned rubber out of there:
This picture of an Army soldier in Iraq with his tiny ‘plot’ of grass in front of his tent is heartwarming! Here is a soldier stationed in Iraq, stationed in a big sand box. He asked his wife to send him dirt ( U.S. soil), fertilizer, and some grass seed so that he can have the sweet aroma, and feel the grass grow beneath his feet. When the men of the squadron have a mission that they are going on, they take turns walking through the grass and the American soil — to bring them good luck.
I use this word a lot, but These guys are just simply amazing.
Jimi Hendrix (November 27, 1942 – September 18, 1970), you are sorely missed. ########################################################## Another very Interesting site.
########################################################## I love This Guys fantastic Art work with chalk
I wish I had never seen a blog with Haloscan and though it would be neat to have:
It has been such a pain ever since I signed on with this outfit. I decided to put my original Photo blog back up and removed any sign of Haloscan In the HTML . Well, I not only removed Haloscan (possibly) but also now there is no way for anyone to comment on the Photo blog.
There are plenty of times when Computers are a double edged sword and this is definitely one of those times
I found this and couldn't leave it till I had seen most of the images. Kinda like watching a train wreck. Warning: Some of the images are pretty intense.
