Reposted from www.asofterworld.com

Why, you ask, am I reposting a story told by Joey of A Softer World fame fame on a blog dedicated to crap relating to rednecks? I'll tell you why. Because I felt like it. I have other reasons, though. Resons like the fact that if you pull that sort of stunt in real life, you will have a deer hunting accident. Or wander in front of an errant train. Or maybe just get your ass kicked so bad you'll feel it after you're dead. See if you can relate to the man's frustration as the tool on the other end pulls all of this.

Yesterday I played chess on the internet against a stranger.
He kept saying "Hurry up. Why u so slow? this isn't poker." Poker? "Yea. this
isn't poker or checkers. Move." Poker and checkers are both faster games than
chess, I told him. Chess is a thinking game. "No. why u think grandmasters
always only play w clock?" So, I played faster than I'm used to, and made some
serious mistakes. He was making mistakes too, but I was only seeing them
afterward. It is very frustrating to lose against someone you know you could
beat. I was down a bishop and a knight, and I resigned. "Too bad your no good."
he said. We started another game. "That's ur move? are you really stupid?" and I
played more aggressively than I should have. I got excited, and lost my queen
because I wasn't looking. This is two games in a row I lost, and I wanted to
win. I told him, one more game. "ur funeral." he said.I took my time. I thought
about my moves and I thought about his moves and I put the pressure on, slowly.
When I get angry, I become very careful. I don't know if that's how you get
angry. I become very careful and very focused. When he started trading pieces,
he made mistakes. With every exchange I got a little something. A pawn. Some
space in the center. He kept wasting moves, retreating his pieces. And then I
got him. He had no move. He was going to lose a rook for a pawn. So you know
what he did? He said "I am going to let you win, so that you can be happi about
winning 1 game at least." and he moved his queen to where I could take it for
nothing. I got so angry. I told him to take his move back, but he said, "no I
said you could win."So, what could I do? I resigned. Chess is very serious
business, by the way.

Update

Wow, it's been a while. Thanksgiving really took a chunk of my attention, it looks like.

It is a redneck behavior for your scale die-cast car and motorcycle models get their own dedicated cabinet, and your ceramic food-ware doesn't. Many of you gearheads out there know what I'm talking about. Let's share photos of our collections.

What else..... oh, yes. I have been asked to embed a certain sort of video here. I've given up on that. Sorry, Moonbeam. You find one, I'll embed it.

I have another axe to grind. Snow removal. Those of you who get a serious winter every year know what I'm talking about. Use the proper implements to remove that pesky stuff. A grass-blowing lawnmover, while it will suck up and throw dry snow, will do nothing but rust in the face of wet snow. So don't try it, or you'll have a nasty rusty suprise in the spring.

If you do destroy your lawn mower via snow-removal, take the engine out and get rid of the rest. Don't stick it in your fucking shed and buy a new one. A 16 horsepower engine is good for highway speeds. A rusty lawnmower shell is good for nothing.


Other bad snow removal methods:

• If you live on an appreciable hill, it might look logical to try to remove the 2-4 inches of snow with a snow shovel that you're holding out front of your Radio Flyer wagon. It works, but you need extra weight in the wagon and it is tough to keep the shovel under all the snow. It is also difficult to guide the snow to the side. Steering is also a problem. Falling out of the wagon isn't fun, either.
  
  
• Using a heat lamp to melt the snow off will remove snow, but it is slow and will result in ice.
  
  
• Purposely playing music loud to try to cause an avalanche off of your roof, thus avoiding danger of the snow weight causing structural problems looks good on paper. Gabled roffs are at the optimal angle for an avalanche, and if you have gotten two bouts of snow, one should come off easily. Causing vibration to loosen the snow, similar to tumbling the walls of Jericho, sounds plausible. Issues with this approach:
  
  Unless you have four-foot-tall Peavey concert PA speakers on the first floor of your house, hooked up to a Korg, Marshall, or other concert post-amp, you will not get a loud enough bass range to do anything useful. You will only fry something expensive.
  
  If you do have the above, consider your attic space. It is likely insulated, which will deaden the effect.
  
  Another issue: You will likely damage your hearing in the attempt unless you use construction earmuffs. You may also damage windows. Duct tape won't fix that, bucko.
  
  
  
• An ice removal tip: Use a heavy metal rod, not a sledgehammer or hammer of any sort.

Better ways to acomplish the same thing as the above:

• Forget the wagon. Just hold onto the shovel, put it at about a 15 degree angle towards the street, and take a run at it. You'll act like a human snowplow. No more lifting.
  
  
  
• Use mag chloride. table salt isn't as effective.
  
  
  
• Get in the attic and bang on the underside of the roof. Not too hard, as you don't want to disloge nails. It will work quite well. You will also likely itch like hell from the insulation, so cover up before you get up there and tuck in your shirt, duct taping your sleeves and pantlegs tight. Now go fix that window.
  
  
  
• You can also use mag chloride on ice. Or, use a big flat-tipped iron rod, to break it up. Mag chloride only works if the temperatures are going to stay out of the teens, though, from my expreience. If you get sheet ice on your driveway, you can use the chunks like frisbees.

Please tell me if I have suggested a new thing that you had never thought of, or if I missed anything.

Note: the best snow removal method known to man is to pay the neighbor kids to do the whole job.

Joey at A Softer World has published many great, funny, and insightful comics. Lately, they have been accompanied by a glimpse into the workings of his rather twisted mind. Today I checked the site (www.asofterworld.com for those of you how can't see that above link) and found the following wonderful story.

My first year of bible camp, Adrian was too young to come too. So it was just
me. There were girl cabins and boy cabins. There were miles of woods on all
sides, except for the ocean. We swam. We played orienteering games. At night we
played manhunt. It was a two week long party. Church three times a day, but
whatever. My mom never took me to church. Fifteen minutes sitting on a wooden
bench singing old pop songs with the words all changed around wasn't so bad. Who
doesn't like to sing?

The second year was even better, because Adrian
came too. Every day, we would spend our daily allowance at the tuck shop and sit
on the beach eating candy. Adrian and I have always agreed about candy. We ate
lunch together in the cafeteria. We were in different cabins, of course. But we
played on the same teams for team games. At home we fought more and more at that
age, but at camp we were brothers.

Year three, they took everyone in my
cabin into the main building and sat us all down. "There's cake next door for
everyone who has accepted Jesus into their hearts," they told us. "If you can't
find Jesus in your heart, we just want to sit down and talk to you." I couldn't
tell. How do you know if Jesus is in your heart? I wanted him to be. I wanted to
follow my friends next door. But I couldn't find him. I stayed and talked. My
mother, an atheist, was going to hell. They said a lot of other things, but
that's what made the impression. That's what I blurted out, a month later, when
my mother found me crying in my bedroom, hugging my bible. I had been sleeping
with it under my pillow.

You have never seen a woman as angry as my
mother that night.

That was Adrian's last year at bible camp, too, but
for a different reason. A few days later, one of those counselors threw a jelly
fish on his back down at the beach. And, maybe that isn't so different. They
seemed like adults to us, but those counselors were teenagers. They were just
kids, too.

Thank you for the story.

More tips

Some things are just bad ideas. See these photos for more.

1. If you break a bone, do not make your own concrete cast. Even if you set the bone right, you WILL get burned something awful by the hardening concrete. It's better to let a doctor do it. Don't use plaster of paris, it is too brittle unless you get it perfect.
   
   
2. Never clean with gasoline or deisel, you will light something on fire. It will look cool, but it will also make a bigger mess and destroy stuff that you really need. Plus, fuel is too expensive.
   
   
3. Jumping off of any sort of roof onto a trapoline will cause you pain. Maybe not the first time, but there is a law of physics which basically says that it will. See tip #1.

Moldy Pumpkin Machete Baseball

Some of you may be wondering I have found myself short one machete, one moldy pumpkin, and one person who will throw a moldy pumpkin at someone holding a machete. However, here's how it goes.

I learned this from a Government and Politics professor who grew up in Wyoming. This is both entertainment and a way to cut up and compost the moldy jack-o-lanterns one always has after Halloween.

When he was little, sometime in early November, Mr. Sturr would take my professor and his brothers (aged between 7 and 12) out to the back alley to dispose of the year's old jack-o-lanterns. The boys would take turns holding the machete and chopping at the pumpkin as Mr. Sturr threw it at them. Whoever cut their pumpkin up small enough in the least throws (while staying the cleanest) would win.

It sounds incredibly fun, and is a brilliantly elegant way to take the normally unpleasant task of jack-o-lantern disposal and incorporate a game aspect. Professor Sturr now has his wife throw the lack-o-lanterns at him every November, and uses his father's machete to continue the tradition. Redneck ingenuity and dedication, right here, people.

Anecdotes

Note: there is a difference between antidote and anecdote. If a rattler bites you, do not read funny stories out of Reader's Digest to try to feel better.

• Today in traffic I saw a truck that was at least three vintages of Rustoleum. This guy had obviously repainted it on his own in patches. Which would be fine, if he had not written "For a good time call" and his phone number on the tailgate. This man saw a problem and went to solve it in the most straightforward manner he could think of: give everyone his number. He used the tools at hand admirably. He was displaying redneck ingenuity. At some point, you might act similarly to this man and not notice.
  
  For example, Myspace or blogging.
  
  
• Many rednecks do not own nail clippers. Instead, we save the money and use the tools at hand: wire cutters.
  
  
• Dog bowls are really nothing special. That said, a hubcap is not a dog bowl. However, if you have used your hubcap as a dog bowl, wash it before you put it back on your vehicle. Also, wash it again before you take it back off and put food in it-- road dirt is bad for your hounds.
  
  If you use hubcaps as dog bowls with any frequency, do not be like my neighbor and let your dog enter other neighbors' yards. I admire your ingenuity but am tired of putting the hubcaps back on the Olds every morning covered in dog drool.
  
  
• It is perfectly acceptable to fix your own backpack. It is also perfectly acceptable to do it with equipment you bought at the Home Depot.

Getting the Family Together

This is what happens when you get my family together.

At my great aunt's 60th wedding anniversary, she invited the whole family. That meant four different clans. If you're familiar with the town of Lamar in southeast Colorado, they own a tree farm there.

135 blood relatives came. A large portion of the town also showed up, including the whole fire department.

The aboveground pool had frogs in it.... that were put there on purpose. It was a game for all the youngsters (you know, up to 25 year old or so) to try to catch them. Whoever got the most would get an extra bag of fireworks that night.

The food and seating were shaded by tents-- tarps duct taped between 2x4s. Not because they couldn't afford proper tents, but because that would take more effort. We barbequed three sorts of canned meat and had an impromptu chilli cookoff. My second cousin Dusty won. The whole affair was being cooled by a swamp cooler-- the one they had just unbolted from their roof and set on blocks facing the tents.

After we ate, we decided to ride ATVs. Everyone who didn't bring their ATV decided to figure out a way to attach a gas motor from one of the old lawnmowers (five lawnmowers, one patch of grass on the whole property) to anything with wheels by some kind of belt. That and slingshots made from the elastic out of old underwear (again, not because nobody could afford it, but because if it don't fit no more, do something else with it) kept folks entertained the rest of the day.

At some point in the late afternoon, several young fellas from my mother's father's uncle's side of the family (gettin' complicated?) pulled up late for the party in their pickup truck, saying "Sorry we're late, Danny forgot the cannon."

...?

Yes, they had built a cannon out of some old pipe, bolted it to the pickup bed, and proceeded to start shooting bowling balls across the field. Then we'd race to go find them on our ATVs (or lawnmower-bicyles) and bring 'em back so we'd get to shoot. The fire marshall had a good time with this, too.

Speaking of whom, bear in mind that all fireworks that blow up or leave the ground (all the fun ones) have been banned in Colorado for around a decade. That's why the whole fire department was invited-- so folks could shoot off bottle rockets and other, bigger ordinance and not get arrested. Wine and dine them, and they'll give you permission, with or without a licencse.

It got dark, and the best frog-catcher got extra fireworks. There was quite a show. The aforementioned four-year old (see previous post), being only three at the time, was only allowed sparklers and smoke bombs... and the occasional small cracker when there were a few adults around.

At some point shortly after midnight, folks started packing up to leave.

This all seemed perfectly logical and rational to us, even the guys (no relation, just local boys) who thought about seeing if a generator would run on Jack. My point is, get much of my family together, and whether they admit it or not, there will be many redneck moments.

How about yours?