If you were watching the McCain speech at all during last night you might have seen a few of the clips of a few crazy protestors who managed to get in to the arena and were holding up signs. You might, if you were watching MSNBC, have caught a glimpse of a rather hidious looking woman strip out of her jacket and down to a pink dress and try and rush the stage. Obviously the left is getting a bit nervous of the republican competition and that's why they do these kind of things. However, if you thought that was all that was going on....

You would be wrong.

Police arrested more than 250 protestors during McCain's speech last night in St. Paul.

The peaceful protest, dubbed "No Peace for the Warmakers," drew nearly 1,000 people who had planned to march to the downtown convention hall where the Republicans met.

Marchers chanted "Who is the terrorist? McCain is the terrorist" as they tried to cross several bridges that span Interstate 94 into downtown St. Paul, but were blocked by police.

It always amazes me to see people describe a protest so filled with anger and hatred as "peaceful" but whatever. I guess most of them knew it was supposed to be peaceful, but apparently a few of them didn't get the memo:

Walsh said most would be cited for unlawful assembly and released. One person was found with a semiautomatic pistol, for which he had a permit, and others were found with bags of feces, he said.

Feces? Really? Did these people walk around scooping up abandoned piles of dog poo from peoples yards, or were they actually taking craps in bags and planning on throwing them at people? I know that the left things we conservatives are somehow weird and delusional because we believe in things like God and Morals,but I think it is high time for them to start looking at themselves in the mirror. Seriously, who's the crazy one here? The one who believes in God or the one who is keeping bags of fecal matter on their person to throw at someone?

The real creepy thing is that these people are Obama supporters. These are the people who are so invested in Obambi's success and are responsible for elevating Obama to cult status. They fling feces at people one minute and then point fingers at us conservatives and scream "crazy!" the next. It's like they live in some bizzarro world where up is left and down is russia.

Its official. I am - in name - what I swore, SWORE, as a newlywed, that I would never become.

a soccer mom

DUDE! its awesome! not the other parents or anything, although their coach is a nice looking man. I love watching my girls running around playing this game.

(I'm not big on "other parents" ask my friends. I'm pretty solitary at the playground, I have my yarn and my mp3's - don't need anything else)

They have their first game this afternoon. They are team 3, otherwise known as - and they chose to be called this! - The Swamp Monsters. uh huh.

Toots

Jealousy, a bitter feeling of hurt and hostility could be amplified and distorted into a powerful obsession, which disqualified one from enjoying a loving relationship.

You are angry. You feel violated. You want revenge. I attempted to stop him from gawking at blonde chicks, "at least not in front of my face", I thought controlling his behaviour was the only way to protect my vulnerable emotion. Like a normal human being, the first thing is to blame others as the cause of our discomfort. I kept my thought to myself:" If you didn't worship them that way, I would not have felt so violated." My attempt to change his behaviour to prevent my episodic jealousy. The apparent pathetic attempt to control others' behaviours with a deal, flags no threat but an attitude of powerlessness and

Other psychologists analyze the situation is caused by a lack of quality communication. I finally took the chance to sat down with him and tell him my mimic emotions and the way I interpret his behaviours. His logic righteous was voice over upon our gender differences , " I am a man, how do you expect me not look at a girl with mini skirt."

I obviously could not accept his reason, perhaps more of the attitude he believes he has every right behind his machos behaviour, despite the fact that it jeopardize my fragile emotions. Nevertheless, I still chose to give my best endeavour to repress, suppress, or deny my feeling, in order to avoid the cost being seen as a crazy insecure girlfriend. I kept telling myself to my reaction is abnormal. But sadly It certainly takes more effort to believe something than it does to not believe it .

As you may probably outguessed me, such a approach does not solve the problem but conversely, contracted against my unrealistic intention and brought my anger forward and eventually burst in outrage. I simply did not care about how much he perceived me being unreasonable, because my feelings are part of me.

" If you love me like the way you said you do, you must come up with some compromising responses, I don't care if it is some sort of pretentious promise, but you need to be liable for your action that caused me grief!" Such thought kept revolved and repeating itself in my brain back and forth, it almost feel a forthcoming storm swell on the edge of the cliff.

I have been crying all night like a psychotic, his eyes filled with empathy, not towards my embedded shameful jealousy that is almost laughable in eyes of the others. As usual, he condemns my confrontation is nothing significant but another an episodic mental disturbance. His sat in in the corner pretended he's watching TV, without realizing his tightened eyebrows has just betrayed him, his silent frustration, that masked behinds his Oscar acting skills. Perhaps, the mere conventional response is one of the top five skills guys acquired in their first romantic relationship encounter, or should I phrase in a more precise way- the relationship that beyond the realm of the romance. GC

Bien, una vez instruidos sobre el género balada os dedico una de mis favoritas (tengo más, aunque yo no fuera precisamente uno de los que las bailaba, era muy tímido...). En esta ocasión he elegido Crazy cantada por Patsy Cline, la primera que la grabó. La canción es del conocido cantante y compositor country Willie Nelson. Si no tenéis a nadie al lado con quien bailar al menos podéis cantarla ya que os dejo la letra.

Crazy
Im crazy for feeling so lonely
Im crazy
Crazy for feeling so blue

I knew
Youd love me as long as you wanted
And then someday
Youd leave me for somebody new

Worry
Why do I let myself worry
Wonderin
What in the world did I do

Crazy
For thinking that my love could hold you
Im crazy for tryin
Crazy for cryin
And Im crazy
For lovin you

(repeat last verse)

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heee...

steph is so LOL.

at least someone shares the same thoughts as me.

(:

:)

such convos once in a while is really nice.

And my question, the one that always accompanies this thought, feeling, realization, is does it really matter? Does it matter why anyone wants to talk to me or be my friend, does it matter if they look to me when there is no one else left? Does it matter if I only get the position when someone else is no longer there?

I really don't know the answer to that question.

Did I hate feeling like the replacement girl, like I could be picked back up again whenever she wandered off?

Yeah.

But in spite of that did I love those friendships, or quasi-friendships, or whatever the heck sort of label I could give them anyways? Didn't they make me amazingly happy?

Yes.

But it's stupid, isn't it? If it bothers me to be that girl, the replacement girl, I should have respected myself enough to not be her. But if those friendships were worth it I shouldn't have cared.

Instead I did neither.

I put my friendship out there, telling the people I care for, when you are ready I will be your friend. And I meant it one hundred percent, but then I wonder, like I am now: is it really me they want to be friends with, want to talk to, or am I still just the replacement girl? And how long does that status really last anyways?

But here is the facts: I care about people. If they will let me, I will be a friend. And I guess if I'm going to be that way I can't worry too much about the whys, can I?

And the biggest two questions of all: do I really want to post this, and why did it take me so long to discover P.G. Wodehouse?

I know it isn't the best photo, but it was the best i could do.  

Check out the guy opening the door. 

He is wearing pink and black striped socks.

Living in my own secluded world, I realize that I might be a bit out of touch with current fashion, but is this acceptable?

According to sources close to the McCain campaign, the teleprompter continued scrolling during applause breaks. As a result, half way through the speech, the speech had scrolled significantly from where Governor Palin was in the speech. The malfunction also occurred during Rudy Giuliani's speech, explaining his significant deviations from his speech. [see the update below on this part]

Unfazed, Governor Palin continued, from memory [and relying on her printed text, clearly looking down occasionally at the printed page], to deliver her speech without the teleprompter cued to the appropriate point in her speech.

According to Politico, that's bull:

Perhaps there were moments where it scrolled slightly past her exact point in the speech. But I was sitting in the press section next to the stage, within easy eyeshot of the Teleprompter. I frequently looked up at the machine, and there was no serious malfunction. A top convention planner confirms this morning that there were no major problems.

(emphasis mine)

Neither side seems to be linking any evidence regarding the prompter one way or the other. There is always the desire to talk up a candidate's ability to think on their feet--but this is five ways from crazy.

Personally, I think the best tests are going to be the debates. I have an idea in mind...but I need a partner who thinks differently.

Like today, Evan NEEDED attention right then and there as I was trying to listen to the news.  (I just want to have something to tell people than Evan is doing well potty training.)  He tried to wrestle me, kicking, pushing, and begging to watch Mickey, which wasn't on for another ten minutes.  As I moved around the room to get a little peace to hear the news, Evan just followed, crying for Mickey.  Fine!  Have the Disney Channel!  I'm taking a shower!  (yes, yes, I know I shouldn't let TV babysit my kids, but you never had a fourteen month old sneak up to the upstair master bathroom and get stuck in the sink with running hot water while you're trying to make dinner.  Besides I stink like a guy; I need my shower.)  My five minutes of peace, listening to Dido, using my sweet pea shower gel.  Heaven.  I get out to find Sean, dancing to Dido.  And all is well in the world.  (The kid's got moves.)

Or the other day as I race to meet my friend for dinner with the boys in tow, I hit EVERY light red.  I swear this only happens when I'm running late.  Hell, I get green lights all the way if I'm running early.  So as I hit another red light, listening to Evan tell me how his cousin is not a genius (his word, not mine, but true).  Then Evan pipes out, "I'll drive!"  What?  "I want to drive, Mommy!  Let me drive!  I can do it!"  You have to be 16.  How old are you?  "I'm three!"  Then you have 13 more years.  "But I can drive now!"  Then the light turns green, and I can't help but smile.

But my favorite make-Mommy smile moment happened a few months back, and I still laugh.  Evan was pleading, beseeching, begging for candy, which actually means fruit snacks.  As Evan isn't allowed to have a crumb of food after four or I lose all hope in getting him to nibble at his dinner, the answer was no.  But Evan has his father's sense of selling, ABC (always be closing) and wasn't letting up.  "Candy, mommy!"  "Please, can I have candy?"  "I want candy!"  "How about some candy?"  At this moment as I rubbed the bridge of my nose begging for deafness, I answered "How about some peace and quiet."  Evan fell silent as he tried to answer.  Finally, he said, "How about a piece of candy?"  Well, that cracked a smile and a little shame for wanting silence when Evan will always say something hilarious.  He still didn't get the candy, but I could go on making dinner with him tuned out.  (Note: he now asks for piece of quiet when he can't get candy.)  The kid's a crack-up.

These are the moments that make the teething, the temper tantrums, the constant not listening seem worth while.  It's the now spontaneous "I love you, Mommy" from Evan or the attack of the open mouth kisses from Sean.  I'm a natural pessimist, but I'm striving for optimism and (God help me) perkiness.  Between kids, I wore only dark colors to hide my weight, but I watched Evan how Evan liked me in my colorful maternity clothes and how I felt happy in them, so now I wear colorful clothes, no matter how fat I feel.  No matter how many times I put Evan back in bed at night or how late I stayed up watching a movie doing laundry, I try to wake happy (and I'm not a happy morning person.).  But I also like hearing the devil say, "damn, she's up again."

So to answer my mom's question, a mom who stayed home with kids when she should have been running a business empire (I swear the woman has a head for numbers that baffles me), yes, mom, sometimes I feel like I was born to be a mom.  Except when the kids are acting up at the store, then I'm just the nanny.

Dave Matthews Band at the Gorge 2008

On August 29^th, 2008, a group of thirteen individuals embarked on a trip to the Gorge to enjoy the annual Dave Matthews Band concert weekend. Our fearless leader, Justin Bradberry, organized a rental RV for the group to ride up together and use for camping throughout the weekend. The majority of the group began arriving in high spirits between noon and 1 PM at Justin and Cali's house to pack up the RV. As everyone arrived, it was for certain that there would be enough alcohol for the weekend. Not long after all had arrived the drinking commenced in Justin's driveway; initiated by Big Bear, Ryan Waage. I believe his quote was, “I don't see why not.” Katie dutifully marked the RV with window paint to establish our purpose and destination, while Drake retrieved his tickets he had surprisingly forgotten. Despite the troubles packing and prepping the RV, we finally managed to snap a picture and be on our way. Right from the get go, we all knew this trip would go down in the history books.

FRIDAY:

With Justin at the wheel, his lovely fiance, Cali, at his side and the rest of the crew in the back, we headed out on I-84 towards the Gorge. Things started out slow and the mood in the RV was not fully lightened until Dr. McGillicuddy's Fireball liquor was opened to pass around for shots. Soon a lackluster game of “asshole” began using Dustin's Grandma's cards. Waage quickly won but failed at saving Mitchell from becoming the asshole. This appeared to foreshadow what was to come for the rest of the weekend. The drinking continued as did the card games, and the first bottle of Fireball had been polished off nearly half-way into the trip. The rest of the trip up was relatively tame compared to the rest of the weekend. A number of people slept or sat and talked most of the way. We only lost our way once, but that small mishap can be blamed on Map Quest. The highlight on the ride up being John and Drake eventually passing out 2-3 hours before arriving. Drake blaming this on his previous nights antics with his girlfriend, Amber.

            Upon arriving at the campground the Abos left for the concert while the rest of the group set up shop. (Fill in). Mark and Waage met the neighbors from Seattle and partook in a game of flip cup. This of course led to a heated political debate (Fill in).

            After returning from the concert Katie and I tracked down the campground with the help of an inebriated Mark Tate. We arrived to a silent campsite with everyone asleep besides Waage, Carr, Bradberry, Mark, Megan and Katie Hacket. Prior to Katie and I going to bed, Drake rallied once again. (Fill in) The late night conversation involved spray-on condoms and the campground kite with a flash light on it. As a result, Drake was given the nickname “Magnum,” and the rest of the Fireball supply was ingested.

SATURDAY:

The group awakened Saturday morning around 8:00 AM. John Mitchell volunteered to cook up some tasty scrambled eggs. Bradberry soon established that the generator had broken the night before and was not going to work for the rest of the weekend. So Bradberry, Carr, Waage, Cali, and myself walked to the General Store for ice to keep the food cold.

            In the morning our group began to settle in to the campsite. We set up the Billy-balls to play while we drank and set the lawn chairs around the area to watch and relax. Megan pulled her car around and started up some tunes. The Billy-balls entertained us for a good portion of the morning as everyone steadily drank. Eventually, the Frisbee-stick game was setup. Waage and Carr won all of them leading to a number of people chugging beers. A Billy-balls 8 team tournament later ensued, resulting in Waage and Carr as champions and the Abos as runner ups. As the day progressed, the campsite became more populated with other groups coming and going. Our group eventually became spread out amongst other campsites, talking to other groups.

            Our campground neighbors, Doug and Tina, had been effectively absorbed into our group and were properly initiated late in the afternoon. John Carr instigated the situation as he went outside the RV to get people to take shots (I am not sure which beverage). When he approached Tina, he began chanting, “Shot or boobs!!” Well, we all know how that ended. Soon after, someone entered the RV to enthusiastically tell of the event. Drake, immediately responded, “What!!!?? I have to go see those things.“ and left the RV on a mission. Bri had made friends with the neighbors with the kite, which was the topic of discussion the night before. She had ended up flying the kite by the time we left for the concert.

            Late into the afternoon, we setup Doug and Tina's badminton net to play a game of volleyball. Given the makeshift teams and the lack of sobriety, nothing but pure comedy came out of the games. On each side of the net there was great comradery taking place between the players with chest bumps, back bumps, high fives, and straight-up victory dancing. There was also a lot of trash talk taking place across the 4 foot high net between the teams. No one could ever agree on the spiking rule, other than when Cali would slam it home. Not to mention my own teammate Drake, smashing me in the baby-maker with the volleyball.

            By the time the volleyball game had subsided, it was nearly time to head to the concert. It took a solid hour for everyone in the group to dress and get ready to leave. As a number of people gathered in the RV to get ready, it was formally concluded that Dustin was the “smelly kid” to his and Mel's dismay. Another 30 minutes later, everyone was on the 5 mile hike to the concert. The group in the front stopped multiple times to wait for the rest of the group, but they never caught back up. Carr and Waage went ahead and were never seen until we met back up at the campsite. The Abos, Bowman and Bri, and two of Cali's friends were together in a group, while the others went their separate way.

            Before the concert commenced we had found all the others except for Carr, Waage, and Bowman. Bowman was high as a high as a kite and lost, while Carr and Waage were flying solo. Within our group, Mitchell had two choices of girls to entice for some muscle milk lovin' later that night. When we had initially sat down, he was flirting with Jen quite a bit, but asked Katie and I which girl to go after. We recommended Kelsey and he soon obliged, ignoring Jen for the rest of the night; she was pissed. The Saturday night concert was good, but it was unbelievably cold. The wind did not stop blowing the whole concert.

            After the concert ended, everyone eventually met back up at the campsite. When Katie and I arrived, Waage was out cold in the Taj Mahal. Justin was sitting by his side Indian style with the lantern by Waage's face, claiming that he had died. More and more people gathered in the Taj to memorialize Big Bear, later to find out he was only in a deep sleep. All this occurred while Bowman and his lovely lady made sweet sweet love in their humble tent right next door. Since it was too cold to talk outside, a group of us sat and talked in the RV for awhile. Mark retold his story of hippie dancing and smoking some ganja, along with some drama that we won't recount in this written record. John Carr had almost died himself from the cold weather especially after Katie Hacket had stolen his sweatshirt and ditched him. Our group had miraculously all made it back to the campsite alive and well. Most of them had lost their way for an embarrassingly long amount of time, but nothing out of the ordinary. The night soon came to a close, as the neighbors rocked a Dave Matthews Band album in their truck to Dustin's pleasure.

SUNDAY:

Sunday was probably the most epic day of them all. It began with a feast of Honey Nut Scooters and pancakes prepared by Katie. Drake kicked off his most fabled day with some old hot dogs and wine. A group left for the general store to retrieve more ice and coffee and Dustin and Mel headed for the showers. The morning started slow similarly to Saturday. A couple of games of BillyBalls were played while people sat around and talked.  Soon people began to shotgun beers and chug glasses of wine, mainly Drake. Within 1-2 hours, 2-3 bottles of wine had been consumed, again mainly by Drake, and John Carr had introduced the group to Idaho Silver and Gold. John, once again, went around to give shots to everyone, but this time he chased it with a little sprinkle of corn nuts in the mouth (Good call John). The corn nuts were a hit with everyone and even provided some entertainment value. Waage and Mitchell were captivated by trying to catch corn nuts from a long distance in their mouth for a good 10 minutes, while Drake broke the world record for the most corn nuts in a belly button (5). He ended up eating those corn nuts immediately following the event. Drake had finally stumbled his way back to his tent to pass out (who knows if he made his noon pass out goal), showing Tina his dick and balls on the way. He even made it twirl in a helicopter type fashion to add to the show.

            Drake's downfall continued as he was awakened by me sprinkling some fresh water on him. Justin followed suit and disassembled his tent while he lay inside. Drake eventually made his way back out of the tent to lay in the middle of the group under the Easy-Up to pass out once again.

            Carr, Waage and the Abos headed to the gates to save decent lawn seats for everyone else in the group. We ended up being shafted by the early admission line, which took all the terraced seating, but we still managed to save a decent spot. We also had to endure a vicious ran storm, but it gave Waage and I an excuse to cuddle under a blanket. (Fill in back at campground)

            Serendipitously I had run to the bathroom and ran into our group on the way back to the seats. This time our group was nearly all together; Drake hadn't made it to the concert. By the time OAR had started our group was well on their way to a good time. The Sunday night concert rocked all our socks off; unfortunately a couple of people, mainly Katie, may have been too far gone to recall the concert with any certainty (I guess there is always next year). Besides the music, the highlight of the Sunday night concert was the many falls that were taken by Mitchell and Doug. Doug probably ate it 3-4 times during the concert, and Mitchell probably matched that count.  Although, Mitchell probably took the cake when he, “barrel-rolled into the beer stand,” as told by Waage.

            By the end of the night we had all once again miraculously found the campsite. Some had gathered in Tina and Doug's palace of a camper, while the rest of us sat in the dark in our disheveled RV. Some went to bed early, while the rest of us sat and watched Mitchell for 10-15 minutes, “Blllaaahhhh.” Doug had also wandered into the RV looking for trouble and trying to blend in. He was probably making sure the stunt-cock (Mitchell) didn't get away. After Mark had passed out sitting up and woken up instantly, him, John, Drake, Waage, and Doug left to go find adventure in the campground. Who knows what happened beyond that point because the group sleeping in the RV took a vote to lock the doors and call it a night. After about 20 minutes Drake was pounding on the window to get in, I proceeded to pretend like I couldn't understand him, turned the light off and he went away. 10.5 minutes later Waage begins pounding on the window yelling my name for 5 minutes straight. I finally let him in to sleep. Once again, the truck next to us was playing a Dave Matthews Band album for Dustin's enjoyment.

Mitchell's version of him and Mark's excursion:

Blue text = Mark’s Update

Upon gazing at Tina's twins and eating all of Doug's taco salad (ewwwwww) (mmmmm), Mark and I headed back toward camp to call it a night (that is after Doug came back and grabbed me to tell me that his wife wanted to show me her boobs again!!), then Doug insinuated that he was ready to call in the stunt cock.  We heard some ruckus behind our tent and decided to see what was going on.  We discovered a bunch of dorks drinking, weird, beer and various other types of booze.  A portion of said group was leaving to go somewhere else and we have no idea where or why we decided it would be a good idea to leave with them.  After realizing that the people we were with were obviously killing our game, and several drinks later, we decided we weren't ready for the trip to be over, even though we had consumed enough beer in the last 12 hours to intoxicate the German National Rugby team.  At about 1am, we wandered the campground partying with numerous (I estimate the number to be around 5) fellow groups of concert goers.  Mark informed me today that he remembered drinking about 3/4 of Miller High Life and threw it on the ground.  He said he went and picked up after he'd realized what had happened and continued drinking it.  He was not sure why he did, but remembered that he was not even mad.  Another group that we walked by had a large parachute as their tent and about 12 dudes, 2 of which were playing guitar.  Rather than stop by this group, I’m pretty sure I let them know they were having a sausage fest.  **sidebar memory**  As we would walk up to various groups of people that were all in different stages of drunkenness sometimes we weren’t met with open arms like we should have been.  In order to break the ice, we had a couple of strategies.  The most prevalent strategy was to exclaim “YAAAAAGGAAAA BOMBS!!!”  repeatedly.  15 drinks later, we miraculously found our way back to the camp (probably at around 5:00am.  We decided to pay a visit to Eileen.  She was still up, but very quickly realized how drunk we were and said she was going to bed.  We were not going to let that happen...we jumped in her tent and gave her one of two options, come sleep with both of us or come sleep with one of us at a time.  She did not like that and kicked us both out.  With our heads down and tails between our legs, we proceeded to make it back to the tents.  I still didn't want the night to end; Mark had had enough and went to bed.  I grabbed one last beer and sat next to Drake outside of the tents.  Drake had passed out there earlier because he took down his tent, 911 style earlier in the day and The Taj Mahal had been flooded by Hurricane Katrina.  While Drake came in and out of consciousness, I slowly, but surely drank my beer and told him about the adventure Mark and I had.  I didn't want to go to bed, but was forced to do so when my eyes began twitching so bad that I began to see Tina's boobs over and over.  I did not want to make any bad decisions so climbed into the Taj and passed the fuck out.  That was the greatest night ever!!

MONDAY:

Katie and I awoke on Monday morning around 7:30 AM to clean up the campsite and pack up to leave. The scene was more than laughable. Drake was in a sleeping back passed out in a chair, while Mitchell snored like a buzz-saw in the Taj. It took a couple hours to clean and pack up, and to corral Mitchell and Mark who were still drunk from their excursion in the wee hours of the morning.

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In the YouTube video above you have some great coaching on 'how to' jump whilst out on your mountain bike. It is very much a case of getting your balance right and you do this by the correct positioning of your arms legs and body as you approach the jump, as you are making the jump and as you are landing. Watch Chris Duncan of bikeskills.com explain the process, then watch it again and again so you don't miss any of the finer points - like his safety tips, his checking out the jump prior to launch and of course his instruction concerning body part positioning as you execute the jump. Thanks ikrtolica for the video.

So now you know how to jump on your mountain bike? Yeah - but to get to the degree of expertise of the dudes in the video below (thanks colley1991) you will have to practice for hours and hours and then days, weeks and years - and thats not all - for extreme jumps likes the ones shown here you also have to be probably a little bit more than just plain crazy - enjoy!

Totul are un inceput si un sfarsit. Ceea ce odata poate ti s-a parut de neclintit, se naruie in fata ta ca un castel de nisip de care valurile se izbesc impasibile.

"Closest thing to crazy"...o linie melodica minunata, si versuri...versuri ce surprind esenta sfarsitului unei frumoase povesti. Imaginile ultimelor clipe petrecute alaturi de "acea persoana" iti trec fulgerator prin minte. 4 minute in care retraiesti ultimul sarut, ultima atingere, ultimul cuvant...

Un tablou trist, agatat intr-o camera cu amintiri in care soarele nu mai patrunde deloc...

From the Los Angeles Times. September 3, 2008:

"Palin: average isn't good enough

She's not qualified to be president, and in picking her, McCain shows that he has little respect for the presidency.

By Sam Harris 

So let us ask the question that should be on the mind of every thinking person in the world at this moment: If John McCain becomes the 44th president of the United States, what are the odds that a blood clot or falling object will make Sarah Palin the 45th?

The actuarial tables on the Social Security Administration website suggest that there is a better than 10% chance that McCain will die during his first term in office. Needless to say, the Reaper's scything only grows more insistent thereafter. Should President McCain survive his first term and get elected to a second, there is a 27% chance that Palin will become the first female U.S. president by 2015.

If we take into account McCain's medical history and the pressures of the presidency, the odds probably increase considerably that this bright-eyed Alaskan will become the most powerful woman in history. 

As many people have noted, placing Palin on the ticket has made these final months of the already overlong 2008 campaign much more interesting. Is Palin remotely qualified to be president of the United States? No. But that's precisely what is so interesting. McCain not only has thrown all sensible concerns about good governance aside merely to pander to a sliver of female and masses of conservative Christian voters, he has turned this period of American history into an episode of high-stakes reality television:

Don't look now, but our cousin Sarah just became leader of the free world! Tune in next week and watch her get sassy with Pakistan!

Americans have an unhealthy desire to see average people promoted to positions of great authority. No one wants an average neurosurgeon or even an average carpenter, but when it comes time to vest a man or woman with more power and responsibility than any person has held in human history, Americans say they want a regular guy, someone just like themselves. President Bush kept his edge on the "Who would you like to have a beer with?" poll question in 2004, and won reelection.

This is one of the many points at which narcissism becomes indistinguishable from masochism. Let me put it plainly: If you want someone just like you to be president of the United States, or even vice president, you deserve whatever dysfunctional society you get. You deserve to be poor, to see the environment despoiled, to watch your children receive a fourth-rate education and to suffer as this country wages -- and loses -- both necessary and unnecessary wars. 

McCain has so little respect for the presidency of the United States that he is willing to put the girl next door (soon, too, to be a grandma) into office beside him. He has so little respect for the average American voter that he thinks this reckless and cynical ploy will work. 

And it might. Palin's nomination has clearly excited Christian conservatives, and it may entice a few million gender-obsessed fans of Hillary Clinton to vote entirely on the basis of chromosomes. Throw in a few million more average Americans who will just love how the nice lady smiles, and 2009 could be a very interesting year. 

Tune in next week and watch cousin Sarah fuss with our nuclear arsenal ... ."

8. MOST SCARY SIGN


We're not going on holiday here.
http://www.flickr.mud.yahoo.com/photos/ekai/457004988/

7. MOST IMPOSSIBLE SIGN


Sign from the future?
http://funnysigns.kitt.net/uploaded_images/funny_sign_08-786248.jpg

6. MOST FAKE SIGN 


(Yes we're pretty sure this was created for a powerpoint deck from a preso explaining that people don't read warnings) 

5. MOST OBVIOUS SIGN

(Amnesia bloggers took this off the TV watching cricket last year. Hilarious!)
http://amnesiablog.wordpress.com/2007/01/10/worlds-best-sign-seen-at-cricket-match-england-vs-australia-jan-06/

4. MOST TECHNICAL SIGN


I never knew how deep bottomless was until I saw this. 

3. MOST IRRELIVANT SIGN


I'll take the fine if there's a choice.

2. MOST APATHETIC SIGN

Don't go arguing with them. They're probably right. 

1. FUNNIEST FOREIGN SIGN TRANSLATION

This sign totally speaks for itself.


Final word:
Signs can be great fun in advertising too. A good illustration of this was the mysterious Obay campaign (here) which made a major splash in Toronto early 2008. The Rolling Rock Moonvertising campaign (here) also caused a big stir in the US...

Dinner In The Sky!!This is probably the coolest thing I've ever seen!  Can you imagine being 150 to 180 feet in the air eating dinner with 22 other people?  I KNOW I CAN!!  Dinner in the Sky can happen anywhere on a flat surface that you can place a crane!  I'm thinkin' this would be sick to do in Paris!  Or watching a big sporting event from up there would be tight too!! (oh yeah you can have TVs up there!)  Check Out Some More BadAss Pictures & Info about this...  

There are 3 staff members in the center... Waiter, Chef, & an Entertainer (yeah you could have a Singer, Comedian, Magician, or even a Stripper up there!!)  The sessions last about 8 hours each.  And, if you need to go to the bathroom you just say so, the crane goes down, you go potty, and dinner is back in the air in 2 minutes.  Although, they do state that this is not for people with weak bladders.  So, If anyone has the $7,000 to blow please holla at me asap, otherwise I'll just have to wait 'til I hit the Powerball.  CHECK OUT THA PICS BELOW!!

For More Pics, Info, and Some Cool Videos Go To: dinnerinthesky.com

From an impressive start, he jumps off the top of a cliff in Norway wearing a pseudo-Batman suit, and soars like a kiwi through the hills.  When he releases the parachute ... well you gotta watch the video ...

Bizarre yet brilliant. And this pretty much made my day. Check out the rest of the campaign over at Help The Honey Bees.

The firefox is grouped along with the windows explorer windows.. I couldnt find out why this is happening.     The system admins at my office said they are seeing it for the first time.  i couldnt find an answer about it in google. if anyone knows why it is happening.. please share your knowledge

Is it yet another bug in windows?? god knows.