TC the Terrible NOW Saber Squelch

There is no way in hell, er heck, that we could have gotten away with this crap, uh, stuff.  If you think for one minute that my 11th grade English teacher would have let us drop the F-bomb even once without a sound beating, you are out of your ever loving minds.  Now kids in schools in Britain get five collective times, per class, before they are even lectured about it?

Rome is clearly burning down around Nero.  Gutless wonders are now running the education system in the nation that used to be the jewel of the Atlantic.  The older I get the less the world makes sense to me.  Explain to me how allowing this manner of behavior IS NOT condoning it.

Out.

This morning I went down to the food-by-the-pound place to grab some juice and was stunned by the price of a bottle of juice.  A pint of OJ was over $3 US.  It was worth every nickel.

The stuff was from Naked Foods.  They claim that there is a pound of fruit in every bottle and from the pulp that I picked out of my molars I believe them.  The label on the side claimed that the orange “Immunity” juice contained; 2 Oranges, ½ an apple (or pear), ½ a passion fruit, ½ a banana, and an entire pineapple.  This is good juice.

You should try it.

Five years old is too damned young to start golfing. Regular readers of this space will know that I am hooked on golf and am trying to transfer the bad habit to THE BOY. In her own oh so sweet way, THE WOMAN is helping out too. She enlisted, I mean, enrolled him in a four day golf camp for five to eight year olds. He was the only five year old and felt really out of place there. He had a good time but pretty much refused to go back tomorrow. Each class is four hours long, which I think is a little much for that age. He’ll go back because we finish what we start in this house. Besides, I’m taking leave on Thursday to play 9 with him.

THE WOMAN is full of surprises. The other day I jokingly mentioned that Meatloaf was playing at Wolftrap and we should get tickets. That’s when she told me that she’s been a closet Meat fan for years. THE BOY, never far out of earshot, got excited and demanded that we have mashed potatoes too.

It’s a sad day for the socially challenged males in Memphis. The last of the great men’s clubs has been forced to close their doors. The Mt. Moriah Center for the Performing Arts was closed down for drug related offenses. Can you imagine? Anyway, according to the Commercial Appeal story there’s a hearing scheduled for this Friday to determine if the owners will be able to open up shop again. My friend Don is the prosecutor in Memphis’ Environmental court. He gets all of the strip club closings because there are zoning violations included in each closure. Some old guys get all the fun.

Speaking of fun, how bad must it suck to be a Saints fan these days? Not only does your team reek of failure, but you can’t even keep a stadium intact. This may be the final straw in the push to take the Saints to a new town.

You guys take it easy. I’ll be back with more in a few hours.

Out.

For those of you that have known me for a while, this is going to come as a shock, but I’m no longer addicted to e-mail and electrons like I once was.  That sounds like a big, fat lie coming from a guy with the Internet and four e-mails strapped to his hip.  None the less, it’s the truth.  

My Blackberry spends more time on my dresser when I’m home than it does on my hip.  Despite the fact that I’ve just invested in a new computer I sometimes go for days without turning it on.  I’ve pretty much lost the desire to devote any real time to staying connected to the rest of the world.  The primary reasons are (I think) work and the kids.

Work is really starting to pick up.  We’ve had major personnel turn over in the past few weeks and I’ve been handed a bigger slice of the pie, so to speak.  One of the new guys isn’t catching on as fast as he should and the other is still convinced that he can make the system rotate around him.  Both of them really need to step back and learn the system around here.

THE KIDS are on THE WOMAN’S last good nerve right now.  They only have this week left of summer vacation and it can not end a moment to soon.  All of them are in a competition to see how much of her time they can grab and ready to snap.  It makes me glad to be at the office.

There’s more to tell, but I’ll save that for later on this week.

Out.