Thursday, April 30, 2009


There's nothing on this earth like the love of a grandmother for her grandchild.

Until you've been there, seen or done that or unless you've been on the receiving end (as I hope that you were/are), you're clueless.

This was Grace at four years . . . when she had her teeth.

Pictures will always be worth a thousand words.

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Until I read this morning's San Francisco paper I had not heard of Bob Log III.

"Bob Log III sure is an odd creature. During his performances, the one-man band sports a cannonball suit and motorcycle helmet to conceal his identity and likes to down glasses of "Boob Scotch, " a concoction that requires a female audience member to stir his drink with her you-know-what.

An early press release from Fat Possum also claimed that Log had a monkey's paw grafted onto his wrist after a childhood boating accident, a rumor he later stated was false.

On the flip side, the Tucson native can ship up some blown-out Delta blues with that slide guitar of his. His latest on Bloat Records is called "My Shit Is Perfect." Need we say more?" SF Chronicle 04/30/2009

So here's Bob getting his Boob Scotch stirred.

Isn't this something that guys named Bob would do?! I want this job!!

Bob's song, "I Want Your Shit On My Leg" requires two ladies to sit each knee.

I think whoever sits on Bob's knee has to have first slammed a few.

You have to admit, this guy does have great ideas.

Check You Tube for Bob Log III to catch his music. It's interesting.
Yet one more example of why it's great being "Bob".
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Wednesday, April 29, 2009


Sing along:

I sailed an ocean, unsettled ocean
Through restful waters and deep commotion
Often frightened, unenlightened
Sail on, sail on sailor

I wrest the waters, fight Neptune's waters
Sail through the sorrows of life's marauders
Unrepenting, often empty
Sail on, sail on sailor

Caught like a sewer rat alone but I sail
Bought like a crust of bread, but oh do I wail

Seldom stumble, never crumble
Try to tumble, life's a rumble
Feel the stinging I've been given
Never ending, unrelenting
Heartbreak searing, always fearing
Never caring, persevering
Sail on, sail on, sailor

I work the seaways, the gale-swept seaways
Past shipwrecked daughters of wicked waters
Uninspired, drenched and tired
Wail on, wail on, sailor

Always needing, even bleeding
Never feeding all my feelings
Damn the thunder, must I blunder
There's no wonder all I'm under
Stop the crying and the lying
And the sighing and my dying

Sail on, sail on sailor
Sail on, sail on sailor
Sail on, sail on sailor
Sail on, sail on sailor
Sail on, sail on sailor
Sail on, sail on sailor
Sail on, sail on sailor


Logan's mom called Sunday morning to see if he could come over for after school play time with Gracie.

Logan and Grace are really good friends. It was a no brainer for Wifey to accept the offer for Logan to play at our house Monday afternoon.

After the telephone call from Logan's mom Wifey called Grace at her mother's mom and tell her the good news.

Grace hollered. She whooped. It was a pretty big deal for Logan to come over after school. Apparently Logan had the same response.

I need to tell Grace not to scratch her butt like she's doing in this picture when she's on a "date".

I was off buying a sailboat and arrived home long after these two had their fill of each other.

The kids played in our little backyard creek.
They checked out insects. Logan knew all about the life cycle of a ladybug. Pretty impressive for a six year old kid. Even Wifey learned something about ladybugs.

Unlike the photo of Grace scratching her butt in the first photo she knows well to keep her legs crossed when sitting down. A girl has to do what her grandmother has taught her to do and she does it very well.

Our oak trees are loaded with caterpillars much like the one Grace is holding.

It's nice to see kids play. They play as if they have no cares or worries. And they really don't. That's one of the blessings of being six.

We should all have a pal come over "after school" to play. That would make for a better world and a better you.

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Tuesday, April 28, 2009


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Four hours southwest of Cow Town yielded this beauty. She's been bought.

We'll take her home in the next week to ten days following new bottom paint, a few repairs and new items added to it.
Looking from the "salon" to the cockpit.

Picture here is the wheel. To the left and right of the wheel are what is called cat bird seats for passengers who don't want to sit in the cockpit.
Top and left is the port side cat bird seat.

The length of the rudder reflects how much water the boat will draft.
Photo in the salon looking forward and into the V berth.

Not pictured:

Galley with stove and sink.

Enclosed head with sink.

Queen berth aft of the salon.

Stereo system with speakers under the salon seats and under the cat bird seats.

Now for the song Max e-mailed this morning. Ya just gotta hear it.

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Sunday, April 26, 2009

If You Have Swine Flu Porky Pig Says This:


Everyone is talking about Swine Flu and rightfully so. It's bad stuff.

I read in this morning's paper that the CDC recommends testing those for Swine Flu who have flu like symptoms.

This makes me wonder. How did they come up with a test for Swine Flu? Is it like a multiple choice test?

Do you have a craving for:
a. Barbecued tofu
b. Kentucky Fried Chicken
c. A thick juicy steak
d. Pigs Feet

If you picked D you've got Swine Flu!

If you picked A you need to see a psychiatrist.

Or is the test something that is administered by a physician.

Physician: Can you squeal like a pig?

Patient: Sure thing!

Physician: Hmmmm, let me see now. Can you oink like a pig?

Patient: Sure, wanna hear it? I just love getting on all fours and oink and squeal like a pig! Watch me, watch me, watch me!

Physician: You've got Swine Flu!

Or could it be that one could self test for Swine Flu?

Do you:
A. Like to wallow in the mud?
B. Call "Here piggie, piggie! Here Piggie!" when you want the family to sit down for dinner?
C. Have all of your dinner plates been chucked and replaced with troughs?
D. Do you squeal with glee when watching Porky Pig cartoons?

And you thought diagnosing an illness like Swine Flu was rocket science.
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Saturday, April 25, 2009


When my PC is down and not working I feel naked and disconnected from the world. I use the laptop but it's just not the same. Everything electronic is on the PC.

Wednesday's service call by Nerds on Call:

Tech: We'll need to take your PC into the shop for more diagnostics. Tell you what, I'll call you later today or early tomorrow to talk about what we've found.

Wednesday and Thursday morning comes and goes with no phone calls from the Nerds on Call.

Thursday afternoon I call:

Operator: They've been pretty busy in meetings today. I'll let the tech know you called and call you back.

Thursday afternoon and evening comes and goes with no return call.

Friday morning 9:00 a.m.:

Operator: Oh, didn't I call you yesterday afternoon? Sorry. I'll check and see what's happening to your PC.

I'm put on hold.

Operator: He's working on it right now. He'll call when he's finished.

I'm thinking that the PC has not been touched since Wednesday. Bob's been shitted again.

Late Friday afternoon there's still no return call with an update from the tech so I call again.

Operator: I'll check and see where he is with your machine.

I'm put on hold.

Operator: They're still working on it.

Me: Will I have it back today?

Operator: I'm not sure. The tech will call you when he knows more.

6:30 p.m. Friday

Operator: The tech will deliver your PC between 4 and 4:30 Monday afternoon. Will you be home?

I just love getting the run around.

The laptop will just have to do until late Monday.

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Friday, April 24, 2009


KFC is handing out free chicken on April 27th. I was thinking it would be fun to take the boom box into our neighborhood KFC, put on the Chicken Dance and get the grind on while eating that free piece of KFC.

Me to KFC Counter Person after doing the Chicken Dance: Wanna see me dance it again?

KFC Person: Uhhh, nope. I can pass on that.

Me: Give me a second piece of chicken and I'll be on my way. Otherwise get ready for more music and more dancing.

In case you're interested here's how to do the Chicken Dance. Cluck it up, kids!

KFC's Press Release:

"Since Kentucky Grilled Chicken was introduced last week, America has been UNTHINKING what they always thought about KFC; there's a lot more to us than fried chicken! Now, America will get to UNTHINK their definition of "Monday," as KFC introduces "UNFry Day."

KFC is so confident America will love our new Kentucky Grilled Chicken, we're inviting you to sample our newest mouth-watering menu item on “UNFry Day,” Monday, April 27.

Consumers are encouraged to stop by KFC throughout the day on “UNFry Day” and receive a FREE* piece of Kentucky Grilled Chicken."


I'll start off this Friday post with a message:


Unfortunately in today's world you're more likely to hear, PISS ON YOU MAN. PISS ON YOU!

Maybe if there were more bare butts in this world there would be less fighting and more peace. We came into this world with a bare butt and a mind for peace.

If we could all remember and practice "Peace begins with me" our world might be a better place to live. With our children if we could all remember and practice: "Children learn what they live" our world will prosper.

Peace be unto you.

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Thursday, April 23, 2009


When American is invaded by the Taliband, the Rubberband or who knows who, this trick may save your life.

Wifey feeds me chicken wings when I practice this trick.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009


The more you have the more wheels there are to grease. Lately the wheels of my life have needed lots and lots of grease. Lots of grease equals an open wallet. This post is not for sympathy but might serve as a warning. The more you acquire the more hassles you'll have in your life.

Here's what has happened within the span of a couple of weeks:

Two weeks ago a tenant dropped a gallon of bleach on the hallway carpet of one of the rentals. The carpet can't be matched. I know, I know . . . the tenant has responsibility here but I won't go into how much they're obligated to pay and what the costs will end up being.

Yesterday I took one of the LP tanks out of the fifth wheel with the idea that I'd fill it up before our next trip. After a half dozens tries to fill the tank the attendant concluded that the check value in the tank has failed. The cost of repair and certification of the tank is equal to that of the purchase of a new tank from Walmart ($57).

The garage door springs at another rental snapped and fell off. Before the door could be opened so the tenant could go to work the springs had to be replaced.

The garage door motor in bay of the garage where I park the truck crapped out.

The irrigation system at the house stopped working all due to wires being cut during one of Bob's gardening projects. The wire was in a place where it should not have been placed.

A door to let air in and out of the heater/a/c system in the truck jammed and remained stuck in a nearly closed position. The truck's heating/a/c system was worthless. Even though this failure was not through my use but poor quality on the part of Dodge the extended warranty didn't cover the repairs of close to $500.

Last Friday I went to pull the fifth wheel out of it's space in back of the house. The electric jacks didn't work. It took a repairman to find and correct the problem.

Today, for the second time in a month, the office computer crashed. Thank goodness that I own a laptop. Repairs, if they can be made, will be made tomorrow.

Our health plan with Blue Cross is an 80/20: They pay 80 and our due is the 20. It seems to have been reversed. Lately Blue Cross has been paying 20 and tell us that it's our part to pay the 80. I wonder why we bother having a Blue Cross plan.

Am I missing something here? Is someone or something trying to send a message? Yeah, I'd be better off with not a cent to my name, living in a tent in the woods and you know what, if I did I'd be a happy camper. Having so many wheels to grease has its rewards. But it doesn't take much for the rewards to diminish and the wheels turn into a curse.

I should leave home and join the Peace Corps. I've heard that they don't have any wheels to grease.

Monday, April 20, 2009


Grace and Wifey headed north last week to visit relatives. Wifey's aunt and cousin both own horse ranches. Mention visit to a horse ranch around Grace and she'll gallop around the house for hours.

So, here the two are, self portrait by Wifey, by the candy machine in their hotel.

Here's the indoor pool. It rains a lot in Oregon. Why get rained on while you swim. . . . that does make sense, doesn't it?

Grace's mom won't buy her a two piece swim suit. Guess who she worked on to buy one for her especially for the trip to Oregon?

Here's Grace's cousin with "Lady".

Grace: Let me have the reins. I'm gonna gallop this horse all around the arena.

Cousin Lisa: Don't you think that it might help keep you on the horse if your feet reached the stirrups? The first giddy-up is going to land you smack dab on your butt, Cuz.

Grace: Oh.

Wifey and Grace took time out a nearby lake. The beauty of Oregon is overwhelming.

They can keep their rain.

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Saturday, April 18, 2009


The Pond Moonlight by Edward Steichen, 1904, a photograph of which there are three remaining copies.

One of the three was auctioned and sold by Sotheby's in February 2006 at before recession price of 2.9 million. . . . the highest price ever paid for a photograph.


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Friday, April 17, 2009


Beetles mating. It happens every spring on the back patio.

Gracie: Papa look! Two bugs are hooked together. What are they doing?

Oh boy, I thought. Here we go. Second thought. .. humm, that not my job. It's a job for Gracie's mom. Who better to start the discussion (or most likely continue as it's pretty clear Grace has already heard a large part of the Birds and the Bees story).

Okay, not my job. Now what do I say?

Me: Well Grace, one of the beetles got into a wreck and the other beetle is towing it back to the shop to get it fixed.

How's that for thinking on my feet?
Photo of beetle smoking ciggie after tow truck gig.

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Thursday, April 16, 2009


Like anyone else there are things in this life that I do very well and there are things that I screw up royally because I can't do them at all.

Take chicken on the grill for example. Bob can cook chicken on grill like no one else. There's an art to it. Chicken on the grill usually comes out, when grilled by amateurs, burned and dry as a bone or raw in the middle . . . like chicken sushi.

When I cook chicken it's usually a split or two on the grill - or half a chicken. There's the leg, wing, thigh and breast. No fooling around with separate pieces. Only one piece or two to keep track of.

Salt. Pepper. Garlic powder. Sprinkled and rubbed onto the split. That's it. Sometimes I'll place the split into a pool of lime juice for an hour. That adds a special flavor you'll not find in any restaurant.

Gas grill with three burners. Fire up all three until the grill is at 500 degrees plus. Put the chicken on the middle of the grill, turn the middle burner off. Leave all of the burners on high.

Cook the split breast up for 20 minutes. Turn and cook the breast side down for another 20. Bang! Done. Perfection.

I guess if you have a charcoal Q you could bank the coals around the sides and place the split on the middle of the grill. The idea is not have any any direct flame on the split. If there is you've definitely got FIRE IN THE HOLE! and burned chicken that tastes like smoked sawdust. YUCK!

So, now you know. There's no longer any excuse for burned or raw grilled chicken. It's ain't rocket science, people.

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Wednesday, April 15, 2009


I've always been one for doing it my way. Ask anyone. Last job I held one of the farewell gifts was a cup with the inscription: Of Course I'm Right - - I'm Bob!

This is my car wash where I take the truck a couple of times a month. There's no time for me to wash the truck. I have better things to do like write stupid things on this blog.

By the sign you can tell there are a lot of things to remember. Old people with no memory will never survive a trip through the car wash.

What the sign doesn't say is what to do when you see mid-car wash that there's still a lot of grime on your truck or car.

Here's what I do. When those brushes are a scrub-scrub-scrubbing I put on the brake in violation of rule #2. The truck stops on the tracks. There's a lot of noise cause the tracks are running under the tires but the truck with me on the brake is standing still. And the brushes keep scrub-scrub-scrubbing, I am smiling ear to ear and the truck gets squeaky clean.

If this doesn't work, I take it out of neutral in violation of rule #1, put the truck in drive, put my hands on the steering wheel in violation of rule #4 and drift off the car wash tracks. There I sit in the middle of the car wash, brushes scrub-scrub-scrubbing and the truck being cleaned like it's never been cleaned before. Getting back on the tracks takes a lot of Bob skill but it can be done.

Do I have to say this pisses the car wash people off royally? Yup. And there are the threats that I'll be banned and they'll call their lawyers and that I have screwed up the the car wash machinery and I'll lose everything. They yell at me. Say I'm wrong. I say HEY! At least I put my antenna down, didn't I?!! Then I hold up my coffee cup so the car wash dudes can see that it reads, "Of course I'm right, I'M BOB!" and yell, SO THERE! And I'd use that argument in court. Yes, I would.

And then I drive off with a damn clean truck.

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Better get on eBay and buy up all the Texican Whopper stuff like this 'cause it ain't long for this world.

BK is dropping the wrestler and all things Mexican from this ad campaign.

All things cracker remain fair game.

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Tuesday, April 14, 2009


A special interest group has labeled this commercial as offensive. Is it?


Zeenie (or Zennia) is always ready to play. She was born ready. Play starts with a stare down. She stares at me and I stare back then the fun begins.

Like the photos posted here, I'm not always into playing chase all around the house (I run from room to room with Zeen barking and nipping at my pant legs), running around the backyard, wrestling, playing catch, throwing the ball and who blinks first during stare down.

That damn dog, regardless of my disposition, just has to have fun. So here I'm trying to kick back, relax and unwind after a day of this, that and other things and we're like doing one hand fighting. I hold my hand up. She softly bites it. Being the gentle, playful soul that she is, Zeenie has never broken the skin on my hands or arms.

When I don't hold my hand up Zeen goes after it in an effort to continue play fighting.

Girls just gotta have fun.

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Whiskeytown Lake, Very Northern California, United States