Teacher Joshua Grizzelle responds to Rick Perry “Strong” debacle, I mean commercial

Uploaded by on Dec 11, 2011

Texas Governor Rick Perry is apparently unfamiliar with the Texas law mandating a “minute of silence” each morning during which “students may pray”. Three classroom parties are permitted per year: Christmas, Easter, and the End of the Year. Let’s see… concern over who is fighting for our country and protecting freedom around the globe, or lies about children’s classroom Christmas parties? Poor Rick Perry. He just doesn’t get it.

Click below the fold to see the American “Family” Association’s response to the Dislikes on the video.

Seriously, if this kind of thought represents your views, could you please leave a comment explaining yourself?

Continue reading “Teacher Joshua Grizzelle responds to Rick Perry “Strong” debacle, I mean commercial”

A portrait of Tina

Tina recently sat in for lights before our dog photo shoot on Saturday.

I worked on the image a little, and decided it needed to be preserved for Le Café Witteveen eternity, whatever that means.

Tina’s a bit embarrassed to be splattered up on the Internets, but I love it.

Are you pro- or anti-solid feces

Doesn’t it seem like Anti-Diarrhea medicine is shooting itself in the foot?

I mean, if pro-lifers want to paint pro-choicers as evil, they say, “anti-life,” right?

Same for pro-choicers and anti-choice.

So why don’t Anti-Diarrheal meds re-think their strategy and market themselves Pro-Solid Poops.

In the very least, Pro-Number Twos … not Number Threes.

Diarrhea … Cha cha cha.

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See below the fold for contest rules.  Continue reading “Are you pro- or anti-solid feces”

It’s 25 degrees out, do you know where your pants are?

On Caturday Saturday after our photoshoot, I walked over to the grocery store to pick up ingredients to make beer beef stew.

It was our first 25 degree (Fahrenheit) day. And stew was calling my name.

Some people think we live in a dangerous neighborhood. I say, it’s exciting. There’s a good amount of people watching. And if you don’t watch out, you might get shot … just before getting offered sex and a bit of crack.

Hell, you might be watchin’ out, and you’ll still get shot.

When I’m at the grocery store alone, I tend to linger a bit. I will pretend I’m looking at a shelf of canned tomatoes, but what I’m really looking at is the tattoo’d man with hair out to here and those things in his ears that make him look half cool/half hominid.

That reference is probably anachronistic.

It’s probably something closer to loony tunes and hominid.

After I checked my list about ten times and traversed the market looking for visual prey, I finally pulled my cart into the self checkout line. Just beside me was a local familiar face.

It was a black woman, whom I see often around the neighborhood, and I never know if she is going to be sober or completely blitzed out of her mind. And by blitzed, I mean, cracked up to the point of mind explosion.

I don’t know her name. Let’s call her Betty.

On Saturday, Betty was not sober. If three sheets to the wind is a clichéd metaphor, Betty was a few thousand sheets of torn bits of plastic whipping around in a category-five tornado.

Betty is a short black lady. She was wearing a knit hat. It was barely covering her little afro. The hat was cute, and definitely a necessity on a 25 degree day.

She was also wearing a pink, short-sleeve shirt. Something you might wear to bed. It had holes in it. I think there was a cartoon character on the front.

Betty was also wearing shorts. Short shorts. Something you’d see in a Nair commercial.

And crocs.

That’s it.

In Betty’s hands were several items. From what I could tell, there were two bags of dog treats, about a half-pound of deli meat wrapped in paper and a jumbo beef jerky (in the package).

As people passed Betty, she shouted out different things. To a random guy passing, she said, “Hey, can you ring me out?”

To a woman wearing big furry (appropriate-for-the-weather) boots, she said, “Hey, those boots are GORGEOUS! I love ’em. Wow. Wooooooow!”

I thought that I should let her go in front of me, but then I got the feeling she wasn’t there to buy anything for real. She was there to warm up. She was playing the part of shopper the best she could.

Her mouth was doing the “I will be coming off my crack high” cud chomping at the bit thing. And when I moved toward the checkout and looked back at her, her nose made me think of Talulah after she’s been digging for the ball in mud.

“She’s been huffing something,” I said to my 2.78 lbs of rump roast as I waved it over the scanner. My rump roast did not respond.

While I swiped an 8-pack of Guiness across the scanner, I heard her say, “Jesus Christ, I do not want to use the self checkout things. Those things …”

She stopped when I looked at her. “I’m sorry,” She blurted. She was looking straight at me.

“That’s all right,” I said as reassuringly as possible. I didn’t know what she was apologizing for. I smiled and looked away.

“I was raised not to use that kind of language,” she said. “I really am sorry.”

I looked back at her and smiled again.

Betty turned and walked up to a Point of Purchase display selling boxes of advent calendars full of candy. She put her nose really close to the cardboard and appeared to read what was written on the front. “Santa is hilarious,” she said and laughed to herself. “I love Christmas.”

Unfortunately, I had to go. I left Betty standing there with her dog treats, deli meat and beef jerky. I’ll say one of my prayers today and hope that I see her again soon. I don’t know what kind of help I can be to her, but I hope that should the opportunity present itself, I would be ready for the challenge.