I'm old enough to remember cigarette ads on television. Most were (like all ads) ridiculously exaggerated concerning the adventures in coolness their product would bring. But these tobacco ads are intrinsically evil when promoting a product the manufacturers knew were killing people. They still know. That surgeon general's warning on the side of a pack of cigarettes isn't enough for me. "This shit causes cancer. Period." That works for me.


Web Junkie

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

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 »

Driftwood

Washed up on the shores of my PC. In the spirit of Monty Python & The Holy Grail intro, "Those responsible for sacking the people who have just been sacked have been sacked," comes this notice. Beautiful pictures of a fairly clever notion, holding the sun. Go »

Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?

Recent conversation with Brenda: While watching “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire” in bed... Me: Do you want to have sex? Brenda: No. Go »

ML8 ML8

Saw this bumper sticker on a white Rabbit. Took me a couple miles to get it. All of these buildings are impressive in their own way but that Chicago drill bit seems to be screaming, "Screw you, Chicago!" Go »

Take Me Out...

It was baseball night in Bowie. As part of Lauren's tenth birthday celebration, we went to see the Bowie Baysox. Highlights of the evening included: Nearly getting nailed by a foul ball while distracted by getting pizza sauce off my pants. Go »

Christmas Post #16: A Hillbilly Christmas

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. Go »