#6252 Happy! Facty! Stinky! Newsy! Sandy! Linky! Random stream of Thinky!

Congratulations, Sirenity!

Someone is tarring a roof outside. I stepped out earlier to collect my mail, and get a “breath of fresh air,” and instead got a snootful of gag-choke-gasp-blech.

Random Scotto factoids/stream of thought (isn’t my whole journal? all links will have hover info, too) maybe to be rewritten later in a more coherent fashion:

Watching the Angry Beavers this afternoon, I idly noticed that they have a wagon wheel chandelier in the dam. This set off a lot of old memories, because the crew I used to hang with when I was sixteen or so ate at a “Bonanza” (later it changed into Ponderosa, and then into a Perkin’s, and eventually became a cheezy under 21 teen “nightclub”) restaurant near our school in Delray Beach at the time, and it was lit by the same “frontier-style” decor. It was a super-cheap food spot to eat at, and the waitresses were cute in little pseudo-western outfits, so it was a natural place to go after school, or on the weekends. They had fantastic Texas toast and corn on the cob, and really large hamburgers. The French fries were not so great. That place was where we planned the vast our deviltry, far from prying ears of parents or anyone who might care.

One such harebrained plan that actually came to fruition was the theft of a life-size “Mac Tonite” statue from a nearby McDonald’s, and then drowning it at the bottom of a nearby canal, with a flashing street barricade folded underneath to hold it underwater… there was something great about looking at Mac, maybe fifteen feet underwater, only occasionally giving off bubbles and strobing in an eerie amber light. I remember wanting to keep the head, but we feared that keeping it would be evidence against us. I brazenly figured that being under 18 meant that I could get away with it, but was convinced if my parents found out that the punishment would far outstrip the crime.

Speaking of heads, my partner in this crime was Brent, a former fellow student at ACHS, coworker at the Library, (and only other guy willing to actually participate in the more goofy teen schemes we all dreamed up) who died years later from a frying pan hitting the back of his skull. He came to a sudden stop in his jeep on the way home from camping and he hadn’t secured all the junk in the back. He was killed pretty much instantly, and I didn’t find out about it until I saw something about it in LWC’s school newsletter, about six months later. I called his mother, to offer my condolences and she pretty much went to pieces on the phone. He was one of my three best friends during the 80s, and we totally drifted apart after I left the library and college.


Saudis ‘fear sand shortage’

Saudi Arabia has reportedly imposed strict border checks to enforce a ban on the export of sand.

There are fears that the growing demands of the construction industry could lead to a shortage in the desert kingdom.

The Arab News newspaper reports that neighboring Bahrain needs to import large quantities of sand for reclaiming land from the sea.

Demand is also expected to grow as the process of reconstruction in Iraq gathers pace.

Although sand remains plentiful in Saudi Arabia, construction experts say the high costs of bagging and transporting make exploiting it difficult.

Experts have told the newspaper that if a mechanism could be devised to move sand from the vast desert region known as the Empty Quarter, it could be a very profitable proposition.

As the paper points out, there is more sand in the kingdom than oil.

Cement is also in high demand, the report says, with many cement factories having to expand their production capabilities to meet domestic demand.

Who’d have thought? What’s next… South Florida having an Old Folk Shortage?


The cutest Anime versions of Cthulhu I’ve seen.


The Norman Saunders Gallery “He was renowned for his luscious palette and exciting action scenes, his sexy women and his ability to shoot from the hip when facing a deadline! Norman Blaine Saunders’ illustration career was as big and successful as any artist could hope for, and no single genre could contain his remarkable talent. He painted them all – aliens and aviators, heroes and hunters, detectives and demons, quarterbacks and comic books, sex kittens and serial killers, westerns and wacky packs!”

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