French bread pizza night. I’m going to allow my pantry it’s last huzzah, and then, I’m committing to decent food. tea and water (unless it’s not available) only for drinks. Salads, and the like for eats, ease up on the cheese and fried stuff, etc.

Tomorrow at work is a Newtie Friday…as today was a Dexter Thurday. 🙂 Found out the hippies next door are moving… Newt’s outdoor pal Sasha (and sometimes Misha) are heading up the road. I wonder if Newt’ll miss ’em.

Curling up in bed now with a good book and good thoughts. Hey… they’re guarding my groundhog cousin, wallace and gromit are back and gay army men porn.


Led Zeppelin – Immigrant song

Ah, ah,
We come from the land of the ice and snow,
From the midnight sun where the hot springs blow.
The hammer of the gods
Will drive our ships to new lands,
To fight the horde, singing and crying:
Valhalla, I am coming!
On we sweep with threshing oar,
Our only goal will be the western shore.
Ah, ah,
We come from the land of the ice and snow,
From the midnight sun where the hot springs blow.
How soft your fields so green,
Can whisper tales of gore,
Of how we calmed the tides of war.
We are your overlords.
On we sweep with threshing oar,
Our only goal will be the western shore.
So now you’d better stop and rebuild all your ruins,
For peace and trust can win the day
Despite of all your losing.

That sums up my mindset this very moment.

thanks, dollarshort!

Check this out – By the People, For the People: Posters from the WPA, 1936-1943 collection

The By the People, For the People: Posters from the WPA, 1936-1943 collection consists of 908 boldly colored and graphically diverse original posters produced from 1936 to 1943 as part of Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s New Deal.

Not only are the posters fabulous, beautiful and most every other adjective bestowed to vintage prints, but the Libary of Congress offers uncompressed tiff versions of the prints — some as large as 32 megs!

Be sure to browse by subject so you can view all of the posters.

Library of congress is wonderful… And, for the most part it seems, the prints all fall under fair-use copyrights. Nifty!

oh my gosh…. worst typo of the year.

Thank You, James Earl Ray, For Keeping The Dream Alive
LAUDERHILL, Fla. A plaque intended to honor deep-voiced actor
James Earl Jones at this city’s Martin Luther King Jr. celebration instead is erroneously inscribed to James Earl Ray, King’s killer.

“Thank you James Earl Ray for keeping the dream alive,” reads the plaque, which has prompted outrage among civil leaders.

*Somebody*’s going to get sued, or worse, for sure.

The Story of Little Suck-a-Thumb, by Heinrich Hoffmann

One day, Mamma said, “Conrad dear,
I must go out and leave you here.
But mind now, Conrad, what I say,
Don’t suck your thumb while I’m away.
The great tall tailor always comes
To little boys that suck their thumbs.
And ere they dream what he’s about
He takes his great sharp scissors
And cuts their thumbs clean off, – and then
You know, they never grow again.”

Mamma and Conrad

Mamma had scarcely turn’d her back,
The thumb was in, alack! alack!
The thumb was in!
The door flew open, in he ran,
The great, long, red-legged scissorman.
Oh! children, see! the tailor’s come
And caught our little Suck-a-Thumb.

snip snip!

Snip! Snap! Snip! the scissors go;
And Conrad cries out – Oh! Oh! Oh!
Snip! Snap! Snip! They go so fast;
That both his thumbs are off at last.
Mamma comes home; there Conrad stands,
And looks quite sad, and shows his hands;-
“Ah!” said Mamma “I knew he’d come
To naughty little Suck-a-Thumb.”

he was warned...

see also – for more

Bergstrom means Mountain Stream in German.

Back from walkies this morning, Remembering old days in Trimaris, shire of Sangre del Sol. (This was over a good decade ago. I started there when I was just 18, left at 20… right before the SCA went to poop because of lawyers and snotty fen folk… no more solid combat and too many social politicking. A pity the archive doesn’t go back a greater span) Some of those times were great fun; there’s a lot to be said for full-contact armored combat and learning older skills like bookbinding. The feedback along your arm after smacking someone (properly protected) so hard that they fall down (or better, go airborne) is *very* rewarding.

I have to see if I can find some of the photos from the time… I suspect that they can be found in storage, if they weren’t lost during the purge of ’96. Hmm.. my ribs ache a little just thinking of the training with some of the other guys. (The only time I have any need to pick up a sledge these days is to break up tile or a wall.) I still have a few of the skills left over from that time period…making practice armor, the art of the shield-bash, body strike zones, knowing if a book is put together well and a lot of left over heraldry. The time there eventually just went to being in the Chessmen (ugh.. choreographed pseudo-combat. If I’m going to do something like that, I’ll dance with my sweetheart, not swing a sword. Nice people though… friendly and kind) and attending Renfaires.

Ok, old school dork mode ends.

I slept pretty well last night and had dreams of having some sort of meeting in a school-style room. Rows of desks, with a few people I know surrounding me… a couple of my hippie friends… Some sort of “how-to” seminar, but I don’t know what we were supposed to be learning. I remember gabbing and having a good time though. We had to get the teacher to sign some photos for a project.