Man Accused Of Abusing Prairie Dog

i don't know that i can relay this article from denver, colorado any better than it already is, so here's the direct quote:

"Man Accused Of Abusing Prairie Dog
DOW: Prairie Dog Spray Painted

POSTED: 9:41 am MDT August 26, 2005

A Western Slope man was cited for allegedly abusing a prairie dog by spray painting it bright orange.

The Colorado Division of Wildlife cited Chad Reiner for cruelty to animals, illegal possession of wildlife and harassing wildlife.

According to witnesses, Reiner was working at a construction site in Fruita Wednesday when he caught the prairie dog, tied a rope around its neck and spray painted it."

source link here

sick day

so i'm going to post twice today, because i have fallen victim of food poisoning courtesy of snu's dining source, sodexho marriott, and i have nothing better to do.

anyhow, here is a link that i meant to post last week. thought many of you ('specially taylor) would find it interesting, and perhaps even thought-invoking.

so, who likes creepy megachurches?

all i wanna do is a zuba-zub-zub!

i was struck this week by the continual humor we are permitted in this life. the particular instance which grabbed my attention was the sighting of zubaz pants on several occasions around town. one occasion was an unfortunate young boy wearing them while mowing his jungle of a yard. no doubt his mother told him not to wear his "good jeans," but rather to wear his father's hand-me-down dallas cowboys-colored zubaz.

the second, and perhaps more frightening, occasion was a man who lives on my street. oddly enough, he was also out mowing his lawn, but was doing so with an electric lawnmower. (wait for just minute to draw your conclusions about that - any hint of doubt will be erased henceforth.) his zubaz of choice sported not the supportive colors of a professional football team, but rather the distinct print of pink floyd's dark side of the moon album cover.
i have not the words to describe the joy/splender/abhorrence i experienced when i saw those pants.

i know that there are probably those of you who are already wondering about it, so yes, your dreams can come true. the pants are for sale on ebay.

dr j is a sick, sick man

courtesy of noel, i bring you "gem sweater." consider this your warning.

"with these shoulder pads i have the strength to destroy villages, homes, and crops."

this just in

well shucks, joe read my last post, so the cat's out of the bag, i suppose. gimme another week to get things finalized, and i'll post a 'summary of hopeless crap and other memoirs' about everything that's gone on.

or, on second thought, how about i just move on. if you're reading this, you probably know me and already are privy to the antics at my workplace. no need to cry over spilled beer.

incidentally, i don't think that i've posted a link to taylor's page yet. he's making braggard comments via ms paint that he is a minesweeper deity, as well as some insightful posts concerning other deities and diets. i say that because it just occured to me that it's almost too ironic that we spell words related to god and food one letter different.

sometimes the qualities we consider to be american so blatantly speak for themselves that i wonder how social philosophers maintain job security. except, of course, for the fact that they probably don't work in the first place.