"Heel, Heinrich!", commands the Governator.
"Kiss my grossly over-developed ass," snarls Heinrich in return.
Anyone ever heard of myostatin before? Not me. Good thing I have some - I can't afford tailored clothing.


Web Junkie

Steve West scours the Web searching for interest or absurdity and then shakes his head ruefully when he finds it. Read more »

Such As It Is...

Best stuff I found this week. Christmas stuff you either can't afford or shouldn't buy anyway. Spectacular pieces of sculpture made from the incredible, edible egg. Go »

Vacation Week II

Took the girls to a petting zoo where they could not only look at the animals but interact as well. Saw some things of interest to me; an albino peacock (well, I don't know if it was albino but it was all white); petted a llama (their hair is kinda rough); the world's fattest rabbit (big as a poodle!); pigs, cows, horses, donkeys, turkeys & chickens & roosters (oh, my); a beautiful garden of vegetables and flowers; and lots of ducks and geese. Go »

No Clowns On Halloween Allowed At My Door

Or "How Ronald McDonald Kicked My Ass" About ten years ago, shortly before Brenda and I got married, we attended a Halloween party at a friend's house. The primary reason to get together was obviously to dress up like we did when we were little but secondarily to get drunk as a sailor on shore leave. The standard "funny name" cocktails were offered like "sex on the beach" and "southern screw" and "raw sewage". Go »

Eleven Times Bliss

To celebrate our anniversary, Brenda and I decided to keep things simple. Kids with a trusted sitter, she and I would do the dinner and a movie thing. A romantic movie with not a thing being blown up, i.e. Go »

It's Not Just Rhetoric

A personal pet peeve of mine is the use of the phrase, "That's just rhetoric." As if the speech being referred to is meaningless and/or uninspiring. The word rhetoric is to be used to define speech designed to persuade. Go »

Christmas and a Lizard's Tale

One Christmas when Lauren was eight, like a lot of girls her age, wished for a pony. My backyard at the time was about the size of a Volkswagen Minibus. Despite her assurances that she would let it roam the neighborhood for sufficient exercise, I said, “Not this year,” as I pictured myself following the horse with a pooper scooper. Go »