Christmas Post #16: A Hillbilly Christmas
by Steve West on December 2, 2007
My father was born and raised in North Carolina. Throughout my childhood we would make the summer trek to my Granny and Grandpaw's house in the middle of the state. Many a summer night passed listening to roosters (they crow all friggin' night), the occasional gator grunt, and my hillbilly cousins fart and scratch while playing cards. Their discussions often centered around things just like this: The need for a better spit can; guns for their kids; the question as to with whom they would rather sleep, their wives or their guns; and electricity - highly overrated. I love my cousins still. Merry Christmas guys! And Tinker (a real cousin), I found the best game for you. Check your mailbox.
Web Junkie
Steve West scours the Web searching for interest or absurdity and then shakes his head ruefully when he finds it. Read more »
Danger Will Robinson!
We've probably all seen examples of stupid warning labels but there's a few here I had never seen before. Also, the menu on the right side of this page has some interesting features. And remember, don't eat the iPod shuffle! Go »Darth Vader Is Alive And Well And Living In My Toaster
So we got this gift from a mother-in law who shall remain nameless; a "super-mega-nuclear look at me long enough and your face will melt like that guy in Raiders toaster. There was nothing wrong with our existing toaster but when she saw it on QVC, my nameless mother-in-law had one of those have to have it moments. I've nicknamed the toaster Darth Vader because regardless of the setting, it turns the bread to the dark side every time. Go »My Ball Got Whacked With Monkey Poo
I love miniature golf. Back in college, I spent many a drunken evening goofing off with friends, avoiding the last few pages of a term paper, or just getting the cheap thrill of pretending you're an athlete by getting your ball into Mickey Mouse's left eye to win a free game. Eat me, Arnold Palmer! Go »My Second Dad
Earlier this week, I lost my father-in-law to lung cancer. He was a beautiful man who welcomed me into his family after marrying his oldest daughter. Family isn’t always blood. Go »I'm a Doctor, Not a Kitchen Appliance!
My toaster has a timer on it that let's you know when it's finished. It seems a little silly to add a timer beeping that's a redundant addition to the toast loudly popping up from the machine that means the same thing. So now, because the timer emits a sound eerily similar to an EKG indicating flatline, every time it goes off I'll say to Brenda, "He's bread, Jim." Go »
