The broken promise. One of the fantastic episodes of Police Squad shown in 1982 but is supposed to look like some cheesy 1970s police drama.
A friend of mine sent me a web site called, “Zoo Borns; The Newest and Cutest Exotic Baby Animals from Zoos and Aquariums around the World!” It takes very little to tittle my tattle when baby animals are involved. I love ’em, and Tina’s love for them makes me love them even more.
When Tina squeals after seeing a baby animal of some kind, it melts my heart. Well, these shots are going to melt yours:
Go check the site (link above) when you get a chance. The first one should show just how closely our little primate monkey children resemble … erhm … little primate children.
Last week, a guy broke into our unlocked car and was about to steal our
piece of shit GPS device, when my alert neighbor Gerry saw him from inside his apartment and tried to chase him away. When the perp didn’t run off by Gerry’s nearby presence, Gerry called the cops and held him until they arrived. Here’s my original post.
Apparently the court case is moving forward and I was requested to be at a hearing this Friday at 1:30, which I’m not going to make, because of a previously scheduled photography job.
The representative from the State’s Attorney office is a super cool, professional lady named Rosie Perez. Actually, I don’t think her name is Rosie Perez, but I’m going to call her that, because it makes her sound even cooler.
I’m not sure what’s in the water right now, but I didn’t tell you that on Saturday night, I was off to run an errand in our car when I discovered I forgot the RedBox Movie we rented. I drove back home and called Tina to throw the movie down. We have a great system where we put stuff in plastic bags and throw them out the windows or off the porch when one of us doesn’t feel like hiking three flights of stairs.
As I’m driving up, I notice five kids milling around the grass behind our place. It was dark, and it’s not an uncommon sight to see kids cutting through the park back there.
I pulled into our gated area and didn’t think too much of the kids. Tina was waiting for me on the porch, and she dropped the RedBox movie down in a blue Gap bag. It fluttered to my hands, and I heard the sounds of rocks hitting around me. I looked up and told Tina thanks, and a couple more pebbles hit into the fence and around my car.
I put two and two together and turned to those kids in the grass and yelled, “Get the FUCK OUTTA HERE!!! What’ are you trying to do?!?”
Man, I was pissed. I’m not sure telling them to scram was the right choice. They were no older than 12. But I didn’t want them throwing another stone at me and hitting the car or the place where Goliath was hit that brought him down to the ground.
As I was yelling at them, one of the kids turns around and screams, “Sorry!!!”
As if that made it all better.
In case you’re curious, 2 Corinthians 7:1 says, “Therefore, since we have these promises, dear friends, let us purify ourselves from everything that contaminates body and spirit, perfecting holiness out of reverence for God.”
If that’s the commandment, why do people keep their bee eye bee elle eees?
I know you know that Leslie Nielsen died over the weekend of something or another. Who cares, right?
But if you’re like me, you spent a lot of time watching Leslie Nielsen movies through tears of laughter. It didn’t matter how many times I saw one of his movies, something always had me in stitches.
I found this web site this morning of his best lines. Here is a clip from youtube of some of his best from Naked Gun and Airplane.
I, for one, will miss him like coo coo nuts.
***EDIT*** Yes, I realize these aren’t only Nielsen clips. Enjoy it anyway.
For some reason this post that I made, which got absolutely no hits when I posted it the first time, is getting rocked today. It’s over a 100 hits, and I typically get about 30 to 35 hits of an average post.
Insert giddy emoticon.
Whoever posted it to their facebook page, thank you. Obviously you have many facebook friends who want to see what caught Ronaldo’s eye that fateful day.
Last Thursday was just a regular day here at Le Café Witteveen. In the morning, Tina and I woke up. We had breakfast. A cup of tea.
We made sweet, sweet love.
For you, it was Thanksgiving. For us, life as usual.
Around 11, we packed up the car and took a road trip … to the gym. We wanted to exercise a preemptive few calories out of our bodies in anticipation for the big meal.
As we were driving, we saw a guy waiting for a bus at a bus stop. Only this guy was in an electronic wheel chair. The chair itself was reclined back so that his knees slanted upward at a 45 degree angle and his torso went backward at a 45 degree angle.
Below the kneecaps, there was nothing but air. There was no tibia. No fibula. There was no skin or muscly sinews. He had pants on that dangled below the knees. His legs had been blown off, amputated, or he was born that way.
The wheelchair was an odd one. It was kind of like that wheelchair designed by the Segway guy. It stood higher to allow him to feel taller. But it probably wasn’t that wheelchair.
Tina and I spotted him seemingly at the same time. We both frowned and said, “Look at that.”
Tina reached over, grabbed my hand and she said, “Some one always has it worse than you.”
“You’re right,” I responded.
I waited a beat and I said, “This is what pisses me off about places like The Yeshua Fog™. [Here in Chicago] We get to see people with special needs all the time. People only see the occasional bum on the side of the highway sporting a sign and hoping for loose change. We get to really see how social services help the public live a great life.”
This is a gross exaggeration, I know. But I hope you get the point. We are faced more often with people with special needs. We have an excellent infrastructure to accommodate them. We have great social services for them, and it makes me proud. Sure, our taxes are through the goddamn roof. But it’s worth it. Because people have a place to go on holidays. They have a way to get there. And get home. And that makes me proud.
Tina and I spent the next few minutes imagining what it was like to be the guy in the wheelchair. We imagined where he was going. We imagined that the bags in his chair were food he made to take to his family’s house for Thanksgiving. We imagined he got a phone call from his brother saying, “We’ll come pick you up.”
And he said, “No bother, I can take the bus.”
This story has been making the rounds about a Buffalo Bill American footballer named Steve Johnson who dropped the winning pass in over time over the weekend. I don’t watch sports. These things don’t appeal to me.
I thought about posting it after I saw it at friendly atheist today, but I didn’t. And then I got a serendipitous email from regular reader SAW. I knew then that I had to post it. It was a sign from … the natural propensity to want to share information with each other.
In case any of you missed it, go check out the story. Here’s a screen cap of the tweet Johnson spat out to the Internets:
I will never understand the idea that god loves one team over another. Reason #3,521 for being an atheist is: if god cares so much about fucking football and professional sports in general, why doesn’t he care about kids dying in Africa of awful diseases? He cares more about touchdowns than curing screaming children?
That’s one reason I left Christianity. I was always searching for signs. If something bad happened, it was the devil. If something good happened, some times I’d give god thanks. More often than not, I’d pat my own back and then pat god’s at church when I boasted about it in the form of a prayer request and/or answer to prayer.
For instance, Tina’s having a hard time with a few real estate deals right now. In the past, I would have said, “The devil is trying to bring Tina down. Get back devil … in Jesus’ name … amen.”
And since these issues have been going on for almost a year, it would prove to me how powerful the devil is over Jesus.
And then I’d frown.
Thanks, SAW for the link!
I enjoyed this facebook screen cap from reddit.com. I love the first response the most.