Tired_Old_Man

A British man who made good in Cincinnati, until...:censored:

One Day Alice...Wam Bam, right to the Moon!!:violin:

By the Way, Bill Clinton and I are exact opposites::fencing: He never inhaled. :angel: I never exhaled.:painkiller::peace:

I have been using the "I don't have any pot today, try this..." argument ever since the late 1960's. That should give the readers of this thread an idea of how long this fruitless "war on drugs" has been failing. And I will say it, "Pot is no worse and probably a lot better than alcohol". Of course "the munchies" is a Lap-Bandster's worst nightmare

I also have had my problems breaking friends' and relatives' furniture. When my next door neighbor (in Brooklyn 25 years ago) went to get a new kitchen set after I had broken 2 chairs over the past few months, I bought them an extra chair for their wrought-Iron set and told them that it was my chair. They now live near Pittsburgh and the kitchen set is still doing fine, and when we visit, I always sit in "my chair".

If drugs were produced by legal businesses like the three main drugs, Caffeine, Nicotine and Alcohol, then the price would come down, the quality could be guaranteed and most importantly, if they only could be sold in "State Stores" (Liquor stores run by the state), it would make it harder for underage people to get it. The lower price and the legal availability to most people would remove the profit incentive and might cripple the criminal trafficking in drugs. Also, because the same people who sell the least harmful drug, Marijuana, also sell the most harmful drugs, having "State Stores" sell pot would keep people from coming in contact with the dealers who try to get pot smokers hooked on worse drugs which have higher profit margins. And if pot was to be sold for $20 per cigarette size pack, $17 dollars could be tax dedicated to funding rehabilitation facilities. I know, I will get blasted on this post, but spending $13,000,000,000 a year on the “war on drugs” hasn't done much (if anything at all) to improve the situation.

In a store: "Jesus Saves, All Others Pay Full Price"

Then the service station is breaking the law. Diesel fuel nozzles are supposed to be the same size as leaded gas fuel nozzles and neither of them should fit in an unleaded gas fill pipe.

Tina would complain before every Christmas, each wedding anniversay and each one of my birthdays, that she wanted to get a part-time job so she could use "her money" to buy me a gift. But, I always assured her that the money I brought home was "our money" not "my money". I spent time with my son, but sometimes could not get the time off for special events. I did miss them, but choices have to be made. I guess I should have chosen to be the son of a Rockefeller, a Dupont or a Bush.

Well it was nice of them to warn you after your actions and I could see how you would be embarrassed, but they didn't save you because a diesel fuel nozzle will not fit into an unleaded gas fuel tank pipe.

That is so true, but when Tina and I decided that we did not want strangers raising our child, I got a second job and also was was at the top of the list for overtime hours worked for mechanics year in and year out. One time I worked overtime 65 straight days. I worked the midnight to 8:30 am shift and then went to my part-time job which was as a auto parts delivery truck driver from 9 am to 1 pm. I was home by 1:45 and in bed by 2 or 2:30. The phone would ring at 6 pm to ask me if I wanted to come in "Pre-Shift" and of course I said "yes", got up, ate, washed, got dressed and drove to work to start 4 hours early. I would also come in to work on my days off. I only worked 4 days a week at my part time job, so I was able to take Tina shopping (she doesn't drive). It was difficult, but we agreed it was worth it. Our son now owns his own business and we are proud of him, even though he complains that I wasn't there for his school concerts and awards very often. I did play basketball and football with him and teach him how to play baseball. And I took him on my motorcycle for long rides and to the drag strip. But the hours were precious both in endearing terms and in time needed terms.

That is what I did.

In 1971, my wife, Tina and I had planned to take our 3 year old son on a “Forth of July” picnic, along with my “new family” (as I called the family that I lived with after my mother died). We had planned on going in two big cars, but the night before, my “brother” George loaned his Chevrolet Impala to his brother-in-law, who crashed it bad enough to make it unusable for the three or four hour ride from Brooklyn to Bear Mountain. So on the “Forth”, as soon as I returned from working the “Graveyard” shift at JFK, we packed up my 1966 442 (Oldsmobile's version of the GTO) and my 1961 Volkswagen "Karman Gia" and headed to Manhattan to pick up my 3 “Sisters” and daughter one of them. Then on to the mountains. We got there so late because of all the problems involved in the small car situation; packing our junk for the picnic and trying to make enough room for everyone, that there were no more picnic areas available, so we picked out a place where we could (illegally) slip behind some trees to park my cars unseen and have our picnic. Well that is the setup. Everything went well until the end. During the day, Tina and I slipped away from the group and while walking hand in hand, the urge to “decorate” the area hit us. We found a spot that we could use and be hidden from view, but still be able to see anyone coming (besides each other). It was at the edge of a 45 degree 200 foot drop. After we had finished, we walked back and everyone was breaking our chops about “Where were you two and what were you doing?” Just as it started to get dark, I had to urge to relieve my bladder and since there were no restrooms, we had picked out a spot behind a large bolder as a private toilet. I didn't know that one of my sisters had used it for other than bladder relief until I felt my sandal sink into something very soft. I wanted to scream, because there was also no running Water and “Wet Ones” weren't going to cut it. And then the attack of the mosquitoes. They came upon us as the birds did in that Hitchcock triller of the same name. We tried to pack the cars as I simultaneously tried to wipe my sandals and feet. After the cars were packed and loaded, I discovered that I had no keys. It didn't take long to figure out that my keys had departed when my pants were around my ankles during “our time of pleasure”. So I wound up having to break out the ignition lock on my 442, while everyone was screaming because of the marauding mosquitoes and the heat of being in a car with closed (power) windows. After I broke out the ignition and hot-wired the car, we started on our 4 hour trip, which became 6 hours because of the holiday traffic. We all need a restroom break about halfway home and the cars were starting to overheat, and because there were no rest stops with restrooms for hours, we looked for and finally found a spot on the highway which had trees between the Northbound and Southbound lanes. Tina is very self conscious, so she spent the most time looking for a spot to hide from the rest of the group before relieving herself, only in mid-stream to hear cars honking as her butt hung out into the view of the Northbound lanes. That earned her the name of “Moon Tina” for the rest of the week. All in all, one Hell of an embarrassing day.

While many of that group may be intolerant, painting with such a broad brush may appear to make a person who says that seem equally intolerant (of them, at least). Personally, while I despise many things that the leaders of the (UN)Christian (NEVER)Right Political Movement espouse, I have found that many of its members are descent people who have had their ideas shaped by powerful men who are adapt at tailoring both the Bible and 21st century news and Political stories to the benefit of the (UN)Christian (NEVER)Right Political Movement. My grandparents where Evangelical Christian Fundamentalists who went to many Pentecostal churches (Grandpa's idea of a fun night out was going to church), but except for handing out literature and saying "God Bless you" to strangers, they were nothing like the modern day followers of Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson. They may have said, "It was God's will" for any event which transpired, but they never said, "It was God's way of punishing (put in a group name here)". My grandparents and the members of "Brother Paul's' and Sister Rose's" congregation where the first (and maybe only) to welcome the first Black family in the neighborhood (and the second, third, forth family...) while the many others put their homes up for sale immediately after seeing the first dark faces. It was the 1950's and real estate brokers were bushing "block busting". We found out later, that a broker bought a home on my grandparent's block for $18,000 and sold it for $11,000 to the lowest class Black person he could find, knowing that the ensuing white panic and "white flight" would make his loss a small investment compared to the future's harvest. My grandparent's Evangelical Christian Fundamentalist Pentecostal church's members almost stopped the tactic from succeeding, but they were outnumbered and property value dropped. Of course, now we have the Falwell's and Robertson's, and the politicians preaching "Neighborhood Values", which is a coded way of saying, "stop the minorities from coming it"; not just the ones who want to be "Block Busters" for economic gain (of brokers) but for people who are just trying to get ahead and improve their lot by moving to a better neighborhood or buying their first home. Anyway, I think we should all be careful how we rate and describe various groups. I know I have been guilty when I write "Christians" but really mean " members of the (UN)Christian (NEVER)Right Political Movement”.

Calling Tech Support for Help

I have a similar problem and I take two pills a day: Diovan and Metoprolol. They discovered the problem in 1998 or 99. Please have it looked into ASAP.

RETARDED GRANDPARENTS (this was actually reported by a teacher) After Christmas, a teacher asked her young pupils how they spent their holiday away from school. One child wrote the following: We always used to spend the holidays with Grandma and Grandpa. They used to live in a big brick house but Grandpa got retarded and they moved to Florida! Now they live in a tin box and have rocks painted green to look like grass. They ride around on their bicycles and wear name tags because they don't know who they are anymore. They go to a building called a wrecked center, but they must have got it fixed because it is all okay now, and do exercises there, but they don't do them very well. There is a swimming pool too, but in it, they all jump up and down with hats on. At their gate, there is a doll house with a little old man sitting in it. He watches all day so nobody can escape. Sometimes they sneak out. They go cruising in their golf carts! Nobody there cooks, they just eat out. And, they eat the same thing everynight; early birds. Some of the people can't get out past the man in the doll house. The ones who do get out, bring food back to the wrecked center for pot luck. My Grandma says that Grandpa worked all his life to earn his retardment and says I should work hard so I can be retarded someday too. When I earn my retardment, I want to be the man in the doll house. Then I will let people out so they can visit their grandchildren.

We can be quite serious at times, but we remain civil. We have discussed topics in this "LBT Rant and Raves" section that at most other forums would wind up with a locked thread in no time flat. There have been problems here and some members have had to be booted, but the moderators do a splendid job of keeping things mellow and yet letting us air things out. At many forums, if a moderator locks out a thread that is very heated, someone will immediately start another thread where that first left off. We take turns agreeing with each other and fighting tooth and nail with each other. One thing I like is that I could be agreeing almost word for word with "member A" in one thread, and arguing with "member A" in another at the same time. No cliques. That is an important thing, a very important thing.

I have to admit that I lie to Tina about our money. She is afraid of going broke, but money in bank accounts barely gets more interest than inflation eats away, and by the time you pay tax on the interest, you break even for the year. I have it set up so that my accounts are joint, and her accounts are hers. I did it that way so that she would feel confident that she had something, no matter how badly I screwed up. She is afraid to make monetary decisions, so I always used to make them by myself and she would get angry, so now I say, "Do you think I should buy 500 shares of Verizon or 600 of GM?" She asks a few questions and then says, "Do what you think is best." We have a successful marriage, because we each found out what we do best and we do it without interference from the other, but we discuss it and there is no topic that is taboo. Oh, my lies: I don't mention to her when the market takes a big dip like it did a few weeks ago or when it has a big day like today. Panic selling and manic buying are the best ways to lose your shirt IMHO.

Is that why my post count keeps dropping?

Does your Husband Drink this kind of Beer?

I always wanted a portable toilet-mobile with a license plate number of 4U2P.

Ouch, I burned my hand.:help: Being smarter than both the label writers and you guys, I inserted the iron in my body cavity handle first so as not to burn my butt. I forgot about taking it out.:faint:

I had the same thing happen to me yesterday and when we almost collided, I said, "In this country, we keep to the right" which was met by, "Show me were it says that". I don't want to agree with him, but every Wal-Mart in my area, every Auto-Zone in my area and about half the other stores have the exit and entrance doors set up so that you have to keep to the left. And before anyone blames it on immigrants, while this area has its share of immigrants, the retail stores are 90% or more US citizens and at least 80% white Americans. I asked the manager of the closect Auto-Zone to my home why the doors are backwards (keep to the left) and he said that is the way thy designed the building.

Cell Phones and Gasoline pumping