Now I remember when I was growing up, when you had something to tell somebody or somebody had something to tell you, you HAD to wait till both of you were home so you could call and tell them. And, then we got a answering machine, and we were high on the hog I tell ya. We went from not even knowing if anybody called to holy shit we have twelve messages, and to think we were only gone the weekend. Phone tag had just become a contact sport. Then during the evolution of the phone, came the bag phone and the "Brick" phone. Now, when you had one of these, you were surly "important", well you at least had a job that a portable phone was important, like a doctor, chief of police, fire chief, someone that it would actually benefit to have one for an emergency, or you just had too damn much money for you own damn good. Cruising in your overpriced convertible, talking to the poor sobs that were tied down by their land lines. A year or ten later you saw more people with portable or "cell" phones. Lawyers, nurses, business owners and managers, and construction foremen had the ability to contact people at will. Beat cops, wrecker services, tool pushers, truckers, and others were easier to get a hold of instead of using the old CB style car phones of the eighties and nineties. But, even then it was kinda a big thing to have a cell phone, you had it for a reason. To make phone calls, hell they didn't even have texting capabilities then anyway. And, so the evolution goes, and they come up with sending mini-e-mails through your phone, and on to the world wide web or Internet. And, now you are hard pressed to find someone without a cell phone. Hell, most of my daughter's friends have cell phones, and they're in the pre-teen range, ten to twelve years old. Now I don't know what business a twelve year old kid had with a cell phone, but when I was in school the only students that had pagers were drug dealers. But, I digress. And, now you see people sitting at the Chinese buffet stuffing their faces with Crab Rangoon, Sweet and Sour Chicken, Fried Rice, and Pepper Beef chatting about how they improved their handicap from 130 to 118 and planing their next Golf outing, with who the hell knows. It's getting to where you can't even take a shit without hearing someone in the next stall talking on their cell. Is figuring out what kind and how many dognuts you need for the next staff meeting so damn important you can even expel your lunch before you have to hash it out? Or was the dress Jenny wore today that ugly that you can't get make it home three blocks away, that you have to call Tammie as soon as you shut your car door? Do you really think I want to hear the tell tell splash and plunk from your end when your on the pot while you call me. Yes, I have a cell phone, and yes I keep it with me for the most part. But, I've gotten where I don't even take it into a restaurant with me, and if momma has her cell I usually leave mine at home now. Now, I'm not trying to say I'm better than anybody because of this, I'm just saying for me I'm cutting the invisible cord, and freeing up my busy time. If I'm running errands, I don't want to have to make and take calls for other crap while I'm busy doing this other crap. I don't want to be tied down by my cell phone, when I go camping, I don't want to decide where I pitch my tent based on how many bars I have, I won't. I'm just working my way back to the simpler times of when we just had land lines, but still have the convenience of my cell just in case I do something stupid and roll my Bronco or something. You know for and EMERGENCY, which is why most people justify a cell in the first place, and more so when they buy their kid a four hundred dollar I-Phone.
A tyrant must put on the appearance of uncommon devotion to religion. Subjects are less apprehensive of illegal treatment from a ruler whom they consider god-fearing and pious. On the other hand, they do less easily move against him, believing that he has the gods on his side. Aristotle
Found this through Yahoo, it's an article by Esquire.com. It is a list of seventeen gifts for CHRISTmas based on your personality...kinda. The list is pretty good, and I checked out a couple or three of the links. Definitive by no means, as most "Must Have", "The Best", "Guaranteed", and "To Save..." lists, this is a decent list though. My favorite has to be the last one. For The Cheater; Divorce. That would be the best gift to give your spouse if you are a cheater.
I found this article from Forbes.com on Yahoo news. It's about recalled toys, the four it shows are a pogo stick, rocking horses from a specific company, a stick horse that is available from Love's Convience stores (Or so it apears from the tag), a bathtub submarine toy, and an inflateable toy from Fishe Price. The only one on there that I could see that would possibly pose a threat to anybody is the pogo stick, it has a slight problem with the rivets breaking that hold it together. Three are just plain lazy parenting, the bathtub toy is something just plain silly. Parents watch your kids or just give them up for adoption.
I just came across this article a little while ago or I would have posted on it earlier. There was a shooting in Wisconsin, nobody was hurt except the gunboy, (he shot himself and later died from the wounds) and there are talks from the school board about having gunman drills with the students. There is a link to the article below along with my comment on the article.
Yup, I say give them all a Colt .45 and take them to the range, and teach them how to use the damn thing. As far as the panic drills, they'll do about as much good as hiding under your desk with your hands on you legs and you head between your knees when a bomb gets dropped on the school. That'll just make it easier for the Police to find the bodies. Other than that, panic drills won't save lives or prevent the incidents. But, knowing that Mrs. Smith has a pistol in her desk just might make 'em think about pulling out a gun in school.
Fear is not a proper defence against those that wish to harm you.
Yes, I know you're proud, and I know you think you're kids are cute. And, yes I agree your kid may be cute, and I'm very happy for you and yours. And, yes I would like pic's of the kid sometimes. And, even monthly for the frst year, or at certian milestones (first crawl, first steps, first time he/she flips your the bird) is fine by me. But, I don't need you to send me a pic of your seventy eight month old. Once or twice a year is fine by me, especially after the kid hit's the big 2.0. Now, I don't have anybody sending me pics of their kid every other day or even weekly, but I've had that done in the past. And, eventhought I'm excited for you and your newest addition to your family. And, no this is not directed at anybody at all. This came to me during a commerical of a family on vacation sending pics of their baby directly to their families printers. I love technology and all the goodies that they're coming up with these days, but I damn sure don't need to come home and find a pile of pictures on the floor in front of my printer, and when I reload it I still have ten minutes of printing to do.
Now it's time to get the CHRISTMAS stuff out and up. Set up the CHRISTMAS tree up after dinner yesterday. Hung the reef on the door, put the presents we have under the tree. Getting the outside lights strung out to hang, cleaning up the house. Getting some turkey salad going for sandwiches later. Just a wonderful weekend as a whole. Now that Halloween and Thanksgiving are over, NOW it's time to get ready for CHRISTMAS. Not before, and not the winter holiday, not my holiday tree or holiday stockings. This holiday is to celebrate the bitrh of JESUS CHRIST hence the name CHRISTMAS, not any of that other bullshit they've been throwing at us in the past few years. So, throw out all those holiday decorations you have, and go out and buy yourself some CHRISTMAS decorations. Or just don't celebrate CHRISTMAS.
Happy Thanksgiving! Although I enjoy spending the holidays with my family, I don't think that the holidays are the only time to give thanks or celebrate life and who's in it. I believe that you should be thankful every day for what you have and the one's you love. Every day should be a day of giving and generosity, every season you should help the less fortunate and the homeless. So if you have family and friends that you truly cherish. I urge you to make time every day or at least every week to make a phone call and say, "Hey, I love you guys." Don't miss a moment to let the people you care about know that you care. Because, it doesn't matter who you are, what you do, or how you live. We all end up in the same place. A pine box, six feet down. And, you never know when it's your time, and even less so when it's someone you loves time. Also, I urge you to make time to give to the less fortunate and homeless year round. They don't just need your help during the holidays, they need it in the spring, summer, and fall too.
Being raised by my grandparents, they treated me like I was born to them and they held nothing back. I spent the first five years of my life on a three hundred acre farm with a couple hundred head of cattle (just regular ole Holsteins if memory serves), pigs, chickens, tractors, and of course a couple dogs. I can't say I remember much of those first years, but I do remember a few. One that sticks out in my mind is when I "helped" birth a calf. At the time I sure thought I was doing all the good, mainly because my grandpa, cousin, and a couple hired hands that we had were telling me how good I was doing, and when it was over said how they couldn't have done it if I hadn't done my part. Now, if you have ever birthed a calf or know anything about it, you full well know that there's not much a four year old can do in that situation. I was mainly a gofer during this experience, and that did lend some credibility to how much I helped, but my main "job" was making sure the come-a-long stayed secured to the truck. There is really no way to attach a come-a-long directly to a pickup so we used a chain around the pintel hitch on the truck and then hooked the come-a-long to the chain. One of my jobs was to tape the hooks after the adults made sure it was secured correctly, then it was checked again after I was done to make sure things were ok. Always double check your work, lol. Then when the real work began, it was my job to keep an eye on the chain and come-a-long to make sure it stayed secured. After the calf was born, I did have to help with clean up, that was pretty.... pretty darn nasty. But, I was in there and I was helping damn it and I wasn't going to quit till the job was done. Through the experiences with my grandpa I was taught at a young age to work hard and to follow through with any jobs I undertake.
Always be a first-rate version of yourself instead of a second-rate of someone else. - Judy Garland
A positive attitude may not solve all your problems, but it will annoy enough people to make it worth the effort. - Herm Albright
You should always just be yourself, if you have to be a certain way for someone else to like you, they ain't worth the effort of changing. Be honest with yourself and everybody around you and you will find people that will love you for who you are and not try nor want to change you.
Regardless of the circumstances things will always get better, unless you just give up and let the bad hang around. The best first step to making the bad leave your life is to have a positive attitude. No matter what, you still have your life.
Been doing some research on a few topics but haven't found adequate information to post on them, so I thought I'd leave you with a joke today. Enjoy.
Three mice are sitting in a bar shooting whiskey. And, of course as these things go, they get into a who's tougher contest. The first mouse slams his shot, looks at the other two and says, "Ya know them 'ol traps that got that bar that slams down when ya take the cheese? Yea, I run up on 'em take the cheese and when that bar slams down, I grab it and bench press it a hundred or so times." The second mouse slams his shot and says, "Awww. Hell, that tain't nutin'. I get them Decon pellets, chop 'em up real nice and fine. Line it up and snort it down." The third mouse, looks at the others and then his watch. Takes his shot, slides off the barstool and heads towards the door. The other two yell at him, "Hey! Where ya goin'?" He replies, "Home to screw the cat."
Now, I'm doing this for a reason. To state my opinions. And, in this adventure, I have posted links to this blog on Cl, and in a few markets somebody decides to flag my posting there. Why, I have no idea, they never say. I have seen people post that they will flag a posting because it doesn't meet their criteria for a post. Like they have a say on the rules of Cl. Someone out there feels the need to police the Internet or a specific site for things that do not interest them, or that offends them, whatever their reasoning. And, for every market on what ever site there are a hundred "Police" for it. I've run across things from time to time that I disagree with, or think is just plain wrong. But, I refuse to try to block any person from saying what they believe to be true. If I was to go into the "Police" mode myself. There are a lot of Cl postings I would flag just for grammar and spelling alone. I found a post a couple of months ago, the guy said that he was going to flag any post that did not include a phone number or a picture of the item described. Goofy, just damn goofy.
What if you gave someone a gift and they neglected to thank you for it, would you likely to give them another? Life is the same way. In order to attract more of the blessing that life has to offer, you must appreciate what you already have.
Ralph Marston
If people concentrated on the really important things in life, there'd be a shortage of fishing poles.
I watched part of the First Official Interview with President Obama. Here's the transcript if you didn't get to watch. I'll let you form you own opinion.
Whether or not you agree with why our troops are where they are and doing what they do. They are the reason you can voice your opinion of it. So salute them and thank them every time you see them.
I find it interesting how some parents don't like their kids hearing cuss words out right. But, they'll let them listen to songs that use that kind of language, or talk about having sex and stuff of the sort. And, I've noticed that it depends on the style of music the "dirty" lyrics are in. If you put the lyrics in a Metal song it's just totally unacceptable, in a Country or Rap song it is mildly unacceptable (depending on the popularity of the song), put them in a Pop/R&B song and it usually goes by unnoticed. I've seen Rock bands, mainly Heavy Metal, and a few Rap bands in the news for their "suggestive" lyrics. But, I have not saw groups like the Backstreet Boys, Britney, Maroon 5, or hell take your pick really. Just about every artist has a dirty song or two, some are not so obvious, some are very blatant. But, the thing that really gets me, is when you hear momma in the parking lot of Wal-Mart yelling at her kid because he said "Shit!" when he dropped his bubble gum, and then when she drives off you hear a song like "Get Low" from Lil' Jon, or Snoop Dogg singing about smokin a blunt, Fergie talkin about her lovely lady humps, Nine Inch Nails talking about fucking like an animal, or AC/DC talking about "Big Balls". And, even worse are the songs that don't say it directly and the parent's don't see what's wrong with the lyrics. Just makes me laugh.
I don't really have anything specific to talk about, but there are a few things going around in my mind. So, I think I'll just ramble for a bit today.
First off on the new campaigns for SQ744, I'm still calling bullshit. One sides is saying that passing sq744 will do this, and do that, release these, and squish that. The other is saying if we cut the bs spending, and overinflated bonus's, and some other crap that we'll have plenty of funding. Well, I don't know about you, bu I believe that both sides are full of shit. On one hand if it gets passed, we won't release any prisoners or close any prisons, no government jobs will be lost, no state troopers will be laid off, our roads and bridges won't get any less attention that they do now, (They can't get any less) and DHS will not lose any more funding than they normally would. Nor will any slush funding be slashes, or any benefits of our congressmen, or any overspending will be addressed, non of the things mentioned by either side will happen, these are the same tactics used during the lottery campaign. Vote for the lottery and our crime rate will go up, vote against it and our kids won't get the funding they need in schools. NEITHER happened. And, the same will happen in this case, if sq744 gets passed our schools won't get any better funding, and no slush funds will get cut.
On another note, one of my daughters asked us for a pair of high heels. Personally I don't think a girl should be wearing high hells, or daisy dukes, low rise jeans, hip huggers, skinny jeans, bikinis, short shorts/skirts, garter belts, a teddy, or anything like that. And by girl I'm talking about any one under the age of eighteen, untill the government recognizes adulthood. I'll stick with the heels this time. What is the two main purposes of high heels? One to make your legs look longer, Two to raise and pop your ass out. My ten and twelve year old daughters don't need to have longer looking legs, nor a firmer rounder looking ass. Period.
As Autumn sets in and Winter draws nearer, and we see less time on the pavement on our bikes. You stop and think about the miles and memories you've put under them old tires. Some bad, most good hopefully. And, you may be thinking about one last long haul before garaging her up for the winter, some will be thinking about, or already have gotten their cold weather gear out for the season. Personally, I plan on making the trip out to Talihina, and taking in Highway 1, or Talimena Drive. Planned on going last year, but the slight mishap of laying my bike over around the first of September, and a majorly sprained ankle prevented me from going. So, I plan on hobbling my gimp ass over to my bike one set of days off, and heading that way.
Yea, I know it's Monday. This was supposed to be posted yesterday, but I wasn't done with it, so I posted today's post yesterday.
How much do you sin? Do you sin more than your neighbour? More than me? Is it less of a sin because you don't do it as much, or as often? Or is stealing 5 bucks better that ten, or a few million? Is killing a Nun worse than a vagrant?
It says in the Bible that all sin is the same, and the punishment is the same. From lying to murder to taking the Lords name in vain. All sin is the same in the eyes of the Lord. The book of James explains this pretty well.
Now this is a problem that is sometimes funny when you read it, but is never really funny in real life. I feel sadness when I read a post and the person can not spell or doesn't know the correct words to use.
I just sold my truck, it was never for sell. It was for sale for a time, and I was more than willing to sell it. And, never was I out to sail it.
Now I understand some words are hard to spell, and I do have trouble with some of them. But, I'm not talking about big spelling bee type words. The ones that bother me are the simple ones, like sell, sale, sail; type; are,or, our; know, no, now; stuff like this. It's sad and shows the quality of our learning in these United States. And, the prognosis is not good. And, the bad part of it is, every computer I've been on has some kind of spell check. And, there are also online dictionaries. Educate yourselves America.
While watching a recorded episode of Dr. Phil about bullying. I got to thinking about the current trend in the news lately, kids killing themselves, parents transferring their kids schools, and other bullshit of the like. This is a big problem in America now, and in reality it extends further than just bullies, but that's a later post.
Bullies have been around since... about forever, really. We dealt with bullies in school, as did our parents and their parents, and so on and so fourth. But, it had become a culture of inaction, yea when I was in school, kids would pick on other kids, and fights would ensue. But, there was line that wasn't crossed, you may hear one kid make fun of another's clothes, or his hairstyle, or even sexuality, but it was never a constant occurrence, they didn't follow the kid around school, shit like that. And, a lot of the time the offender ended up buying the offended a Coke later, while the offended tutored the offender in math.
Now you have the other kind of bully, hard home life, usually poor as dirt, no real parents to speak of. And, I hate to call this kid a bully, but that's what they are. Even though, they're not doing it out of jealousy, or to be popular, or for any other real reason than they're just pissed off at you and the world, and just want to fight and beat the shit of someone.
The bad part is the latter is far more lost than the former. But, the good part is both can be dealt with in the same way. Just like it was when I was in school. At my school, if you were a bully and took things too far, you got told about it, and most likely showed, and taught a lesson. Though not always usually someone would stand up and step forward to challenge your actions. And, that is what is needed now, if you see someone bullying someone, get up and stand up for that kid just like he was your brother or sister. Or stand up for him as you would stand up for yourself. You can take anybody one this planet, and I'll use some examples of what I'm talking about here... Randy Coture, The Undertaker, Brock Lesner, any of them may be able to whup my ass, and maybe even two or three people at once, but they can't take ten. And, in the case of a bully, if one stands up to them, they most likely will back down. You have to let them know it will not be tolerated. And, the more that stand against a bully or bullies, the more effective you will be.
We need to quit catering to the ones who hurt us. Yes they need help, and I do feel sorry for the lad who has no parents, but he needs to know first and foremost that him beating up another kid will not be tolerated. Nor, will it be overlooked and not punished, just because he's got a bad home life. Same goes for the popular kid who does it to gain popularity. You should not, gain by making others suffer.
Wasn't the lottery here in Oklahoma suppose to cut out any additional taxes, or spending by the state and local governments for schools? I believe that was one of the major selling points of the lottery here in Oklahoma. I do agree that we should be spending just as much on our kids as any other state in the Union. But, this proposal doesn't show how it's going to be funded, and states that we will bring our per child spending up to the same level as surrounding states. I disagree with sq744. We need to find a way to get our school systems up to par without major tax increases or cutbacks in other areas.
This is muy messed up, if ya ask me. I'm sure you've heard about the shooting in Texas by the Mexican pirates by now. Granted they were told to say on our side of the poles, and not go into the Mexican waters of Falcon Lake. So I don't have much sympathy for the couple, but the rest of the family should be able to bury their son/brother/cousin. It was a bad thing that happened to David, but they were warned not to cross the border. I do believe that his body should be brought home for a proper burial. And, if Mexico will not help in the search for his body, we should cross that line and look for it ourselves. I say to hell with international bullshit, cross the damm border and find the guy that got shot, and shoot any who oppose!
But who prays for Satan? Who in eighteen centuries, has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner that needed it most, our one fellow and brother who most needed a friend yet had not a single one, the one sinner among us all who had the highest and clearest right to every Christian's daily and nightly prayers, for the plain and unassailable reason that his was the first and greatest need, he being among sinners the supremest? - Mark Twain
It is preached in the Bible to be able to forgive is above all you can to to gain favor with the Lord. Forgive without expectation, without reward and you shall be saved. You ask for forgiveness for your sins and you shall be forgiven and granted eternal life in Heaven with the Lord. You are to pray for people less fortunate than you. Pray for people that need to find the light, the path, the way, the Word of God. Pray for your enemies, forgive your enemies, harbor no hate towards any soul. This is what it says in the Bible, forgive those who have sinned against you and you will be forgiven by God.
Who do you pray for, who do you need to forgive today, tomorrow? I have forgiven all who have done me wrong, and I hold no ill will toward them, eventhough I'd just as soon not have them in my life, or have cut them out of it completely. But, I wish them the best in their lives and adventures.
Most of all, I pray for the one who needs salvation most, Satan. I pray that he will ask the Lord for forgiveness for his sins. And, that he will accept the Lord as his Savior. And, I say, If you can not pray for Satan to ask forgivness, then you need to pray for yourself. I pray for you.
What the hell is wrong with this, Jaz Reynolds kid? I understand he was trying to make a joke, but come on think about your actions and words before you do anything, especially something like that. Once it's on the web it's not yours anymore, it is out ther for the world to see and you can never get it back. And, just how insensitive that was. Even said in private among friends, that is plain wrong. I'm glad Coach Stoops suspended him, I honestly hope he gets completely kicked off the team. And, even as a Oklahoma State fan, I wouldn't care if it had been someone with the talent of Barry Sanders, and played for OSU, I wouldn't want that individual representing our state at all.
On the news, I saw a report about how a consumer advocacy group in California are trying to ban toys in kids meals in their area. Their main target is McDonalds's, this is supposed to go to trial in the fairly near future. Now, I say this is just damn ridiculous.
The first link is to an earlier version of the story and the second it to the current update.
Their claim is that the fast food companies use toys to lure in children to eat their products. Just like Joe Camel made me want to smoke. BullllllShit! First off, I started smoking before I knew who Joe Camel was. Second, who the hell is the one paying for the Happy Meal? Timmy or Suzie at five years old? They make all their decisions don't they? I mean, who the hell picked out that V-cut blouse that they're wearing, and Timmy sure know's how to pick out the right boxers to wear under his Chinos to compliment the stitches in his pockets. WTF?!?!?! Come on people. If you don't like the product, quit fucking buying it. If it offends you, just don't use their products or services. Plain and simple, nothing more, nothing less to it. And, for everybodys sake, quit trying to make the government make across the board changes for the opinions of a few people. I don't care if there are ten damn thousand of you, that is only one percent of a million. Hell, that's only ten percent of one hundred thousand. How would you like if our President only had to have ten percent of the vote to get the job? Or any elected official for that matter? How about if your doctor only completed one year of med school? That's approximately twelve percent of what it takes to get his Doctoarte of Medicine. I got one better than anything I've mentioned thus far. How about if your employer only paid you ten percent of your earnings? Paying attention now?
It's getting sad people. You're out there lobbying for your government to make rules for shit you should be taking control of yourselves. Like with this toy case, I guarantee that few if any of these parents will quit buying their children happy meals. I hear parents complain about how their kids beg and plead with their parent to get them this and get them that. The parents eventually give in, and they want to blame the marketing. When it's ultimately their fault for buying the product, and not busting their kids asses. I know I tried that tactic with my grandparents once, and it was only once. They taught my little ass not to do that shit again, and with my kids, they have learned that if I say, "No." That is the end of the conversation, no why, why not's, and no pelases. And, I never tell my kids, because we don't have the money or can't afford it. My finances are absoultely none of their business.
What will these consumer advocacy groups have to bitch about then? What is next on their agendas?
I was watching this cop show, and I noticed something that has made me wonder since I was a kid.
Why is it that a cop (Or anybody in that type of role) in a movie or TV show, can shoot out a light in one shot that is fifty or sixty foot away on a seventy plus foot tall pole, but can not hit the back of a van driving away from them at twenty to thiry feet? Or if they do they only bust out the back window. Now, I know I'm going to hear about how the vehicle is moving, or some crap like that. I can hit a three pound coffee can from twenty to thirty yards floating down the river, with eight out of eight shots from the Ruger .45 I use to own, and can still do it with my friends gun that's a newer version of the gun I had. And, I have no where near the gun tranning that cops do. Also, you got the bad guys that spend a hundred rounds out of an AK-47, AR-14, Uzi Sub-machine gun, or other automatic rifle. And, not one shot hits the good guys, (and a cheap couch will stop any bullet short of a missle). But, the they turn around with their .22 cal back up from their waste band and in one shot, ricochet off a chandelier chain, the only silver platter on a glass coffee table, two seperate trophies on opposite sides of the room, and kill three non-main characters.
And, another thing, in a car chase or any chase for that matter. It's either one car/officer chasing them and the rest of the police force is completely oblivious of the chase, or they can't seem to catch up with them for some unknown reason, or it's the whole damn force, called in back up from the surrounding areas, the F.B.I., C.I.A, A.T.F, Immigration, the National Guard, A.R.M.Y., and Barney Fife, and they still can't box them in or catch them.
Then you got the people that never answer the phone, unless they're going to find out something they're not supposed to know. Or they always answer their phone, unless it's going to cause someone to be left in a situation where they will either get hurt, or killed.
Just about everybody has an arch enemy, whether or not you're a cop, killer, comedian, or boss. If you're nerdy, geeky, plain, or an outcast in any way, your brother or sister will be popular, or the prom queen/quaterback will take a dare to either date you or make you as popular as them. And, then they get jealous because you become more popular/better at the sport/become prom queen, or outsine them in some way. And, there is no real cliques, in every group of friends, you have the jock, the prep, the nerd, the prom queen, the homely girl/guy, the meathead, and the artist. I'm sure there is more that are included in larger groups of friends.
If you get stuck on an island, you will have guest appearances, that can get off the island but you are forever stuck. (Gilligan's Island reference) Or a little guy that announces whenever a plane comes in to land. (I'll let you figure that one out yourselves)
I'm so thankful for television and movies for teaching me everything about human interacion and culture. That is all I have to say.
SICKNESS AND RELATED LEAVE: We will no longer accept a doctor statement as proof of sickness. If you are able to go to the doctor, you are able to come to work.
SURGERY: Operations are now banned. As long as you are an employee here, you need all your organs. You should not consider removing anything. We hired you intact. To have something removed constitutes a breach of employment.
BEREAVEMENT LEAVE: This is no excuse for missing work. There is nothing you can do for dead friends, Relatives or coworkers. Every effort should be made to have non-employees attend to the arrangements. In rare cases, where employee involvement is necessary, the funeral should be scheduled in the late afternoon. We will be glad to allow you to work through your lunch hour and subsequently leave one hour early, provided your share of the work is done enough.
YOUR OWN DEATH: This will be accepted as an excuse. However, we require at least two weeks notice as it is your duty to train your own replacement.
RESTROOM USE: Entirely too much time is being spent in the restroom. In the future, we will follow the practice of going in alphabetical order. For instance, all employees whose names begin with ''''A'''' will go from 8:00 to 8:10, employees whose names begin with ''''B'''' will go from 8:10 to 8:20 and so on. If you''''re unable to go at your allotted time, it will be necessary to wait until the next day when your turn comes again. In extreme emergencies employees may swap their time with a coworker. Both employees'''' supervisors in writing must approve this exchange. In addition, there is now a strict 3-minute time limit in the stalls. At the end of three minutes, an alarm will sound, the toilet paper roll will retract, and the stall door will open.
PAYCHECK GUIDE: The following helpful guide has been prepared to help our employees better understand their paychecks: Item Amount Gross pay $1,222.02 Income tax $244.40 Outgo tax $45.21 State tax $11.61 Interstate tax $61.10 County tax $6.11 City tax $12.22 Rural tax $4.44 Back tax $1.11 Front tax $1.16 Side tax $1.61 Up tax $1.08 Down tax $1.14 Tic-Tacs $1.98 Thumbtacks $3.93 Carpet tacks $0.98 Stadium tax $0.69 Flat tax $8.32 Surtax $2.23 Ma''''am tax $1.23 Corporate tax $2.60 Parking fee $5.00 F.I.C.A. $81.88 T.G.I.F. Fund $9.95 Life insurance $5.85 Health insurance $16.23 Dental insurance $4.50 Mental insurance $4.33 Disability $2.50 Ability $0.25 Liability $3.41 Coffee $6.85 Coffee Cups $66.51 Floor rental $16.85 Chair rental $0.32 Desk rental $4.32 Union dues $5.85 Union don''''ts $3.77 Cash advance $0.69 Cash retreats $121.35 Overtime $1.26 Undertime $54.83 Eastern time $9.00 Central time $8.00 Mountain time $7.00 Pacific time $6.00 Time Out $12.21 Oxygen $10.02 Water $16.54 Heat $51.42 Cool air $26.83 Hot air $20.00 Miscellaneous $113.29 Various $8.01 Sundry $12.09 ------- Net Take Home Pay $0.02
Thank you for your loyalty to our company. We are here to provide a positive employment experience. Therefore, all questions, comments, concerns, complaints, frustrations, irritations, aggravations, insinuations, allegations, accusations, contemplations, consternations, or input should be directed elsewhere. Have a nice week. The Management
We are gathered here today in search of the Lord, God and Jesus Christ. Do you accept Jesus Christ as your savior?
It's Sunday, so I thought I'd start with something pastoral. Now, I'm not here to preach, but I am going to tell you how I see it. All my information, and beliefs are based on what I've read in and know from the Bible. I have read other manuscripts, and continue to do so to get a better better picture of my life.
I believe in God and worship him, but I don't belong to any one religion. I don't believe any one religion is supreme over the others. I believe that the God I worship reins over all religions, eventhough he's known by different names. Who are you or I to say that God, Allah, Budda, Krishna, Yu Huang, or let us go back a year or two, even Zeus, Ra, Gaia, Juno, or any others you may mention, are not one in the same? It states in the Bible, Genesis 11;1-9, That we were all one people and spoke one language and worked together. We started a temple in Bablyonia to reach the Heavens. And, that God came down and confused our language so that we may not communicate easily. And, so we scattered over the earth. Humm, that's pretty damn interesting to me.
Religion; 1) The belief in and worship of a God or other superhuman agency. 2) A particular system of these beliefs.
At this time the whole world spoke one language, and everyone used the same words. As people moved from the east, they found a plain in the land of Bablyonia and settled there.
They said to each other, "Let's make bricks and bake them to make them hard." so they used bricks instead of stones, and tar instead of mortar. Then they said to each other, "Let's build a city and a tower for ourselves, whose top will reach high into the sky. We will become famous. Then we will not be scattered over all the earth."
The Lord came down to see the city and the tower that the people had built. the Lord said, "Now, these people are united, all speaking the same language. This is only the beginning of what they will do. They will be able to do anything they want. Come let us go down and confuse their language so they will not be able to understand each other."
So the Lord scattered them from there over all the earth, and they stopped building the city. The place is called Babel since that is where the Lord confused the launguage of the whole world. So the Lord caused them to speread out from there over the whole world.
Yes, you are handicapped, you are disabled, you are retarded, you are black, you are white, you are fat, you are ugly, you are (insert anything here).
If you change disabled to differently abled, it DOES NOT change the condition.
If you change retarded to mentally challenged, it DOES NOT change the condition.
Fat is NOT big boned, nor does it look good in spandex. Not all blacks are of African decent. Not all whites are of European decent.
Political Correctness is getting in the way of everything. Hell, political speak in general is getting in the way of everything. Candy coating what things are does not change what it is at all. Calling me Caucasian or a Euro-American, doesn't make me less white. It doesn't make my skin burn less, nor does it make me dance better. Yes, I know, stereotypes. And, yes I do know in fact that a black person can get sunburned and not all can dance. Just using them as examples of ignorance for those who don't know.
Let's get into this Caucasian thing why don't we.
Caucasian: Adj. 1) Person of the fair-skinned tacial divisions. 2) Of or pertaining to the Caucasus mountian range of the languages of the region. n 3) member of the Caucasian race 4) A native of Caucasia, a region between the Black and Caspian Seas.
I fit the first one. As far back as I know, none of my family is from nor has been to Caucasia. So, can I really consider myself Caucasian? I don't think so personally. I'm just an American heinz 57 white boy. Nothing special about me, so don't put a special label on me.
Now to the capper part.
Now, I have a hip problem, and I can get one of the little blue stickers or even a permanent tag for all my vehicles because of said hip problem. Couldn't get into the military because of it either. I can still walk, run, swim, drive and ride my bike. And, yea it gets to hurting at times, sometimes bad enough to make me cry. But, I refuse to get a tag becasue there are people out there who need to use those spaces way more than I do.
Handicap: n 1) Disadvantage 2) Physical or mental disability. v 3) to place at a disadvantage.
Humm, sounds like handicapped is the correct term after all. I don't consider myself handicapped because my hip does not hinder me from doing anything at all. It may make me pause sometimes, but never stops me. These people are handicapped becasue it prevents them from doing something as good as the vast majority of people do. Some can not learn as well, some can't run at all, some can't use their hands as effeciently as I do. They are at a disadvantage to most people because of this. But, they are not second class citizens, nor do they deserve to be treated with any less respect than your own flesh and blood, boss, or buddies.
Political Speak.
Don't have much to say specifically on this. Except, just read the Constitution Of The United States Of America, the Declaration Of Independance, and the Articles Of Confederation. Then take bills bassed today by our government and you can see the difference. The Constitution is written so that any man, woman or child can read it and understand it clearly and completely. Todays laws are written so that only the lawmakers, lawyers, and judges can understand them, and even at that some still can't. There is a problem with that system,. Any law passed by your government, you should be able to read and understand and know exactly what that law covers.
Every American citizen should have read all three of the documents I mentioned. I have read the Constitution, took me about three hours total. Most people spend more time than that jerking off each week. I'm currently reading the Articles. And, will then move on to the Declaration.
My fellow Americans, I don't care about your background, heritage, or handicap. We need to cut the bullshit out of our lives, and quit covering up the real problems. And that my friends is what P.C. does, It sweeps the roaches under the carpet and then says we don't have roaches. Come on people, let us be honest with each other and our selves. I'm not Euro-American, I'm just AMERICAN, not hyphenated, I don't identify with another country. I was born here, raised here, and will die here. If you immigrated here, and have gained or in the process of gaining your citizenship. Just be an American. You left your counrty for a reason and came here for a reason. If you were born here, just be American. Be proud you're here, and let's work together to make this country great again.
Went to the fair yesterday, had a ball of fun. Kids rode nearly every ride, some twice. Ate the funnel cakes, gryos, and a beer or two. Looked at some cars. Burned a few calories, more than I took in I think. Got to spend some good quality time with the family. It was great.
But, there is one thing I saw that bothered me. Some of these kids and their damn clothing. Mainly the girls, but boys with the saggy jeans, and underware showing, but at least they're covered.
I'm not talking about 16 -17 year olds, or even twenty-somethings. I'm talking about kids eight, nine, ten years old. Wearing short shorts, daisy dukes, and cheek huggers, high heels, peek-a-boo shirts, way too tight by three sizes t-shirts that say lucious or delicious or hottie. WTH?!?!?!
One of my daughters friends, and my daughters are in that preteen range, her parents said they couldn't get their daughters to wear anything else, but low cut jeans, and string bikinis. I'm over there thinking, if ya don't buy the shit, they can't wear it. So, they wouldn't have that choice. What makes parents think that that kind of clothing is appropriate for a child?
Some of the outfits I saw last night, I wouldn't want my wife wearing in public. A ten to twelve year old, or hell even one under sixteen doesn't need to be sexy. And, I don't care for the damn short shorts or skinny jeans on anybody any way. If you think you have to show off your ass cheeks and tits to get attention, I think you need some serious psychological evaluation.
And, then you got a fourteen year old girl in the hospital giving birth, and momma in the waiting room saying, "I don't know how this could have happened!" All crying and shit. Well if you would have bought them some less provocative clothing, and taught them something about sex. Maybe, just maybe then it wouldn't have happened.
Let me ask you something, who would you rather teach your kids about sex? You, or some other kid that doesn't know anything more that your twelve year old does?
Everybody has their demons. I am no different in this regard. Mine is just as evil as the majority of demons. I guess you could say he is of average evil-ocity, maybe a little more, but not much...
And that pisses me off.
I'm riding down some back road highway, specifically avoiding the interstate. Just wanting to make my trip alone. Keeping my mind on the road and my thoughts. The less traffic the better when you're on a motorcycle.
I see a flash in the sky out of the corner of my eye. I turn in the direction of the flash to look and saw nothing, pitch-black night and stars. It reminded me of being in the hospital and my friend holding up my jean jacket to show me after I took three rounds of bird shot from some idiots twelve gauge. He didn't get the chance to tell his story of how he almost killed Jack “Chainsaw” Williams.
At that, the memory of how I got the nickname Chainsaw finds it's way into my head.
And that pisses me off.
There was a string of murders in the suburbs of southern L. A. Some sick fuck just saw Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and decided he needed to try it out himself. Went on a nice killing spree with a chainsaw. The cops went to the press for leads. The sketch artist rendering came on the screen and one of my buddies says, “Hey, that looks like you. I didn't know you hung out in lower L.A. Ha, ha, ha...” laughing his ass off. Getting up from the couch, “Hey, Chainsaw, I'm getting another brew, want one?” giggling like some schoolgirl on the play yard.
“No, and don't call me that.”
Being connected to the murders wasn't even a thought to me. It had been five days since they had found the first body, which they had estimated having been dead three days. And, we had just got back in town that morning from a week-long rally in Las Vegas. I haven't even been home for two weeks; we took a northern route to Vegas through Reno and Salt Lake City, then back south. Spent five nights in Vegas and straight home after the rally. Turns out, it was my absence that would both incriminate and exonerate me. Sad part is, all it took was one finger, one phone call to inhibit my further freedom. But, it took our clubs lawyer, five out of state police agencies, two surveillance tapes, a few speeding tickets, an out of state court date, and a shit load of money to get the charges dropped.
And, that pisses me off.
“Hey, chainsaw, here's your beer, Bud.”
“I said don't call me that.”
“Man. What did those people do to cross you're ass?”
“Fuck off.”
“Man. A chainsaw isn't your thing though man. Covering your tracks, huh?” laughing.
I crack open my beer I didn't want, and take a long drink. Nice, bittersweet, bubbly, ant piss. The sketch is on the TV again, and I must say I can see a resemblance. I think nothing more of it.
“Hey, Chainsaw...” Awakens me from my daze of thoughts of my plans fro the night. I pull my .32 and put a hole in the arm of the couch just inches below where his arm rests, “Don't call me that again.”
“A...A...Alright man. Sorry, I was just joking.”
“I know but it's tired now.”
Now I don't have an aversion to killing. I've done my share. But, when I got home from the bar, there was an update on TV about the chainsaw murders. More bodies were found; the count had almost doubled to fifteen. They had found not only males, but also women and children. The youngest was only three. What was left was lying next to his mother who was tied to the bed, and... um... run up with the chainsaw.
Like I said I've don’t my share in my time. But they all had it coming. Never would I kill a child or an innocent. The ones I've taken care of, either killed friends, or got in the way of business, and friend, my business is war.
Damn, it's dark out here. Where the hell am I? Ahh... A road sign, “Watonga, straight ahead; Arapaho, Clinton, right.” The intersection I was looking for, bout ready for a room for the night.
FLASH
That wasn’t from the corner of my eye. It was almost like lightening but no clouds, no thunder. It came from north to south, a streak of light... that's what it was.... Just a streak of light. Yea.. That’s it.
Well here's my turn. No sign of what caused the flash... streak of light. Maybe just weary. I need to find a room.
Ducking to the fluttering sound of wings, I wobble but keep her rubber down. Damn that was a big bird, hawk, owl, something. Damn near laid 'er over.
And that pisses me off.
No, that sick fuck was just gong on a killing spree. Sawing anyone he could get his hands on. No rhyme or reason for his victims, a nurse here, retired grandpa there, a priest, kids, cops, teachers, it didn't matter.
And that pisses me off.
Well not the cops so much, but still, ain't no reason for mindless killing.
Sittin there filling up the bike at the station just three blocks from the house. I hear sirens, nothing uncommon in most of L. A. Five cruisers and two S.W.A.T. vans come barreling in the parking lot, jumping curbs, sliding sideways, blairin 'n flairin, as we say. Damn what happened? As I tighten my gas cap, I notice they're boxing me in.
What the fuck?
“Put your hands on your head and step away from the pump and motorcycle!”
What the hell? Guns pointed at me, riot shields, bright lights, bullhorn screaming, sirens blaring. Red, blue, red, blue, red, blue...
Oh... what the hell. Something hit me in the right side of my ribs. Coming around to what's going on, they're here for me!? That must have been one of those bean bag shells they're using for their shotguns now. I didn't even hear the gun go off!!!
“Put...your...hands...on...your...head...”
I raise my arms and do as they say. I don't know what's going on, but I'm not going to try to fight them.
“Step away from the bike!”
“Walk toward me.”
Laying face down I smell the oil, spilled gas and diesel, antifreeze, grease, and... Doublemint Gum?
Cuffs work their way into my wrists as they 'help' me up. I see the source of the gum smell. It's stuck to my riding jacket.
And that pisses me off.
“You got any weapons? Guns, knives, on your person or your vehicle? How about any drugs?”
“Yes and no.”
“What?”
“Yes I got a .32 caliber inside my left boot, a knife in my back right pocket, and a .45 in my shoulder harness. No drugs anywhere.”
These damn back seats are uncomfortable as hell; hard plastic and you can't lean back for the cuffs digging in even more when you do. They're loading up my bike on a roll back truck, damn, impounded.
And that pisses me off.
“What the hell is going on?”
“Time to eat.” the C.O. says as he opens the bean hole and slides me a tray with the morning paper and my court papers. I read over my charges as I eat what they pass off as breafkast here.
“What the hell?”
I'm being charged with the chainsaw murders. “Fuck.” I wasn't even in the state then.
Twenty-seven counts of murder, and one count of possession of an illegal firearm. The gun I'll admit to, got it fourth hand. No numbers, hotter than a branding iron on a horse’s ass.
I finish my breakfast and pass my tray back to the officer. Well let's see what the paper has to say. And that's where I saw it.
“Man Indicted In The Chainsaw Murders.”
Front-page headline. Mug shot and all was there, “Jack 'Chainsaw' Williams was arrested yesterday evening at a gas station near his home. He has been formally charged with the 'Chainsaw Murders' in Southern Los Angeles and it's suburbs...”
Illegal gun, biker, biker gang, were all readily mentioned as was suspected of killing many others. They assumed that I finally snapped and went crazy with my chainsaw, and that the chainsaw was my M.O. and thus my nickname with club, because I like to use a chainsaw to exact my revenge on rival 'gang' members. Neither of which is true, or was true. Never even touched a chainsaw, nor do I have a nickname. I have always been just Jack or J.W. Well, I guess I got one now.
And, that's how I became Jack 'Chainsaw' Williams.
And that pisses me off.
“Mr. Williams? Do you know what your charges are?”
“Yes.”
“Ok. Mr. Williams. How do you plea to the charges brought before you?”
“To the gun guilty, to the rest innocent.”
“Mr. Williams. You do realize that the sketch is a very close resemblance of you, someone in your neighborhood tipped us after the sketch was released that it could be you. That we have witnesses that are willing to testify that you weren't home during the time of the murders. And, you were also pointed out in a line up last week by an eyewitness and survivor?”
“Yes, your honor, I am aware of that.”
“Would you like to change your plea?”
“No.”
“Ok, bail set at fifty million dollars. Adjourned.”
And that pisses me off.
“Charges dropped on Jack 'Chainsaw' Williams.”
I read the headline of the paper, as I sit in the holding area of the jail awaiting my release. Four more bodies were found while I was waiting my court date. It's funny that they couldn't try me on illegal possession of the gun. They unlawfully arrested me. “Ha ha ha.”
“It's time to go,” my lawyer says, holding his briefcase, hand mad from Italy. Bought with club money.
“Jack, we've got to hurry and get this shit settled. You’ve got to be in Vegas day after tomorrow. It was part of the agreement to get copies of that surveillance tapes. States evidence ya know? I also took care of those tickets you got in Clarke, Nevada and Salt Lake City. This is about the only time you'll hear me say it's good that you broke the law and got caught. Or, your ass would be up for murders you didn't commit.”
“Yea.”
“I booked a flight to Vegas this afternoon. And...”
“I'm riding out there, get a refund on mine.”
“Well.. uh... you're.. You're supposed to turn yourself in day after tomorrow for that fight you and your buddies got into down there.”
“I know. I'll be at the Bellagio tonight and go in the morning. You said they weren't going to hold me. Just wanted me in town till the court date. Right?”
“Well yea. But I told them...”
“I don't care what you said. I'll meet you at the hotel this evening.”
At home gathering my emergency stash of cash and a spare disposable gun. Didn't get the .32 back because the numbers were filed off.
Now, off to Las Vegas.
I called some of the guys that had to appear in court with me and they’re meeting me at the clubhouse and we’re heading out from there.
The next three months were pretty uneventful. Mostly drinking, women, gambling, and riding. Most of they boys were theeming hard for their drugs because we had to do a test for that shit at so they were 'cleaning out their systems'. I just drink and smoke my Winston’s, never got into drugs myself. I've always preferred Jack Daniels and Budweiser myself.
One thing exciting did happen though. Guy thought I was boning his wife and confronted me in the grocery store parking lot where she worked. I tired to talk to him about it. Apparently his wife had taken a liking to me and wanted him to get a bike because of.
“You sorry son of a bitch! I'm gonna kill you! This is what you deserve you low life piece of shit!”
“Whoa, man. I ain't touched your wife; I don't know who you are or who your wife is. Or why you think I banging her.”
That's when I see the shotgun swinging above the hood of his truck.
“I'll teach you biker fucks not to fuck with a hunters wife!”
BAM!!!
“Oh, shit!” I turn and duck but I feel the pellets pelting me, it stings. It feels like I've been hit with salt. I stand back up and turn to the guy. “Hey, listen man! I'm not fucking your wife ya damned idiot! Now don't be stupid, put the gun down and lets talk and think about this.”
His grip relaxes. Still in his grip he lays the shotgun on the hood.
“Listen man, I don't know what's going on between you and your wife. But, I guarantee it's not me fucking her.”
“I think you're lying, how do I know you're telling me the truth?”
“Because I haven't slept with anyone but hookers, since got into Los Vegas a month ago.”
“She started talking about getting a motorcycle about three weeks ago. You calling my wife a hooker!? You lying bastard!!!”
BAM!!! BAM!!!
Another shot, I didn't have time to react but one way. As, I was ducking and recoiling from the sting on my arms, my face, chest and hands. I drew my .45 and let all eight rounds fly. Four found their mark, one took out the ice cooler motor, three hit the pickup.
In the hospital after the cops had asked their questions and left my room. She came in as my friend was showing me my bird shot jacket.
“I'm so sorry.” Almost crying. Still in her smock from the grocery store. She was a cashier at the store. I found out that he was a jealous husband, she never cheated on him, and it was my fault she wanted a bike. But, for reasons other that what he had thought. I apologized for shooting her husband.
Since it was such a busy weekend, they couldn't determine who started the fight at the casino during the rally. We just got a hell of a fine, court costs, and damages were divided between us, except for S.D. He pulled a gun during the fiasco and was found guilty of brandishing a deadly weapon. He was sentenced to eighteen months in jail and three years probation.
FLASH!
Damn that one was close; I felt the wind off it. Sounded like those model rockets we did in eighth grade science. But, this time I see the trail of it and a glow off to my left. I’m coming up on a farmhouse, looks like a section line road up ahead. I pull off to the side of the road. Looking east and I see a reddish glow in the distance. Hard to tell how far, a couple of miles or so?
Looking over the windshield of my bike, I see the glow of lights of what I think is Clinton. I light up a Cohiba, and sit there, just the bike and me. Listening to the rumble coming from the bike. I think. Go on into town and continue on my way? Or, left and satisfy my curiosity?
I don’t remember putting my bike in gear, or turning down this county road. But, the glow is getting closer, and I still have my cigar in my mouth.
Pulling into a driveway I notice the sign, “Devon Energy. Authorized Personnel Only.” Must be a lease road to an old oil well, or could be a gas well. The drill for both here don’t they? I remember the smell and look of the entrance at a drilling site from when mom and I would take dad and his co-workers lunch sometimes back home, when I was a kid.
The light is inside the site, behind some tanks. They look like over-sized batteries, with the reddish back-light.
Walking toward the tanks, it sounds like a voice is calling me.
“Jack… Jack… Jack Williams?”
As I get closer, it gets clearer.
“Jack Williams? Is that you Jack?”
“Uuh… Umm… Yea… It’s me.”
“Wh… Who are you?”
“I’m your demon, Jack.”
“My demon?”
“Yes Jack. Your personal demon.”
“Wh… Wha… What do you mean my personal demon?”
“I’m your own personal demon, Jack.”
“I don’t… I don’t understand.”
“Everybody has them Jack. And, I’m yours.”
“I thought that was just a saying about people and their vices?”
“No. Not just a saying Jack.”
The voice had the pitch and sustain of a rock ballad solo from the late eighties or early nineties. And, had the tone of a mother comforting a child.
“But, why do I need a demon?”
“You have earned me Jack.”
“What? How? I don’t get it.”
“You have done enough bad in you life to have made me become real and alive. You have earned me Jack.”
“Oh, ok, what do you do exactly?”
“I help you Jack. I ride with you.”
“How do you help me?”
“With any problems you have.”
“Huh. How do you ride with me and not get noticed?”
“On your arm, a tattoo Jack.”
“Humm… Well, hell. I’m damned anyway so… jump on, I’m getting tired. Um… Exactly how do we do this?”
“Don’t worry about that Jack. With me sleep isn’t really necessary Jack.” It says as I feel claws dig into my flesh on my right forearm. I can feel it crawling like worms under my skin. Our consciousnesses melding, becoming one, its energy flowing through my nerves, its power seeping into me. Burning in my veins, through my arms, legs, my heart pounding as his blood pumps through me. I can feel my bones changing, rearranging my face and build, ever so slightly. But, changing.
Unlocking the door I wonder what it looks like, what I look like.
My own personal demon, a grin creeps to my lips. It was too bright to see out there while we were… merging. And, too dark afterward to see. I take off my jacket and head to the bathroom, thinking about the pictures and drawings of demons I’ve seen in the past. My grin widens.
Standing in front of the mirror, I splash my face with a little water to wake up a little. Take a nice long swallow of my beer.
Rolling up the sleeve to admire my new demon… tattoo.