Tuesday Tidbits

What is the difference between a plan and a master plan? I was thinking about this the other day. Of course we all have plans, but it seem the bad guys always have Master Plans, right? I decided, then, that it's the guy's ego that determines it.

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Took a picture of this Amscot truck the other day. Amscot down here in Kookoo Land is a money lending store. There are hundreds of them and they give you cash advances on job wages. You can also get money orders and that type of thing. It's somewhere between a bank and a loan shark. Anyway, I was first wondering why they had moving trucks. hey don't have anything to move, really. And then I was wondering why they had air vents. There are four from this view. What do they have that would need air?

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My buddy Norah.

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My buddies Kenzie and Whizzbang. (That's a fake Taco bell tattoo.)

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As a side note, this is a still from Ingemar Bergman's The Seventh Seal. It is a seminal film and I decided to watch it long ago. The pace is deathly.

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Poor Zo. The coddled athletic diva bubble continues to pop. Word here at EIB is that he has suffered a setback. The maid wasn't able to get the soap scum out of his tub and he won't be able to rejoin the Cubs for another 2 months. Oh the humanity.

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Last week I took the kids swimming. I put Ayla in a swimmer, although she is housebroken at this point. I just figured it would hurt to have backup. Some old bat in the pool said diapers weren't allowed. I told her the kids were swimming and if she didn't like it, she could call the cops. She and her biddy friend left and damned if she didn't have the manager of this dump come and tell us the rules. If she'd just said something nice first.

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My question is, why would you want to go to the Dominican Republic even if tourists weren't dying by the busloads?

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Last Thursday I shared videos and pictures of my confrontation with what appeared to be a coyote recently. This week a guy who has cameras on his house here at Whoville, aka, Death Valley snapped this pic of one wandering the streets.

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con·cen·tra·tion camp

a place where large numbers of people, especially political prisoners or members of persecuted minorities, are deliberately imprisoned in a relatively small area with inadequate facilities, sometimes to provide forced labor or to await mass execution.

Read the New Yorker article on what is going on. 8 year olds are taking care of 2 year olds. No toothbrushes or soap. Clothes are soiled, diapers are not changed, and is beyond politics.

Someone please take care of those poor kids at the border. Tell me how I am wrong.

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"OK you animals, look alive, Cheeeeese!"

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This was Pride Week down here in the Tampa Bay area.

The current Mrs. Blythe and I drove down to see Brendan at Old Key West Bar & Grille where he works and they had set up a dance area with bubbles in the parking lot. The music was rockin', the people were having a gay old time. I'm no bully so I try to embrace all people - this was their weekend. The next day we were all united in that we all hate Mondays.