Monday, July 28, 2014

1967 Ferrari 330 P4

Might be the most beautiful sports car ever hand built by Ferrari, and a 1 - 2 - 3 finish at Daytona too!



Form follows function. This Italian work of art is one of only four ever made.

Thursday, July 17, 2014

On the GWTW movie set




Men - left to right -
     "C'mon Honey, admit he's under there. We saw you grab him."
     "She's lying, women with those needs always lie."
     "Damn, this is why you can hardly get midgets to act anymore."
     "Look at that face, coo-ool as a cucumber."
     "You know the studio won't be responsible if he suffocates."






Reprint from 2013

Sunday, July 21, 2013


Hybrids and modified beings

Several years ago it was reported that genetic scientists had created ears of corn that actually had human EARS! Some thought it a kind of corny Frankensteinian joke. Others wondered WHY would anyone engineer such a thing. What would we say to corn husks if they did have ears? Would we whisper to them in a husky voice? Get a Q-tip and clean the corn silk out of their ears? Could they put legs on the corn too so they can just be called and they'll walk to the roadside corn stand themselves?

Well, the subject disappeared for years until the emergence of Dolly, the cloned sheep. And now many believe the genetic modification business has gone crazy. Recently it was suggested that lab scientists are creating part animal-part human, 'things' in labs around the world. Chimeras on the glowing Bikini Atoll of Doctor Moreau? 

They have, for instance, embedded genes for human milk proteins into animals and actually have herds of goats producing humanized-milk! Changes my opinion about feta cheese. One suspects humanized sheep will be next, and what then?  Dolly Parton Lipstick wearing sheep? Will they do a remake of Brokeback Mountain with only one cowboy? 
Doctors are busy building humanized animals! And you must remember that scientists who are involved in genetic engineering research are concerned with achieving targeted effects and may not investigate beyond the range of their own intentions! Have you suspected there is a reason for so many horror movies lately? You may be right that you are being indoctrinated to the grotesque.

Now what caught my eye was this one; researchers at the University of Michigan have a method for putting a human anal sphincter into a mouse as a means of finding better treatments for fecal incontinence. This is an important endeavor. Right? But it seems like the direction is backwards, to stop anal leakage or incontinence, shouldn't they try putting the mouse sphincter into the human? 
And what does the mouse think of this? The other mice are ostracizing him, saying he's just a big asshole now! What a sight! And how is he supposed to control the aperture? Everything he eats just whizzes through him. 
But going the other way would be the answer. If old Uncle George has incontinence. You do the anal engineering and voila, little harmless mouse turds! Even if they do drop out, you can just put them in a paper bag for pea shooter ammunition!

So you can see the progress they're making with genetic engineering. There's hope for anal incompetence yet. No, not a typo, incompetence was the word I wanted. Is anybody watching these scientists? Is there a Supervisor guy somewhere who goes into their lab and wants to see what they've accomplished? 
Does he peer into the cages full of human-assholed mouses and ask WTF? 

Should scientists be creating beings that are part human and part animal?  Well, it is happening all over the planet. Are we ready for a virtual reality Blade Runner scenario? I think we'll be okay, they're not trying to look like us, only like parts of us.
 
We now have glow-in-the-dark pussycats, creepy lil florescent felines that can't hide in the closet anymore.  
Frankenswine is a pig created with mouse DNA and E. Coli bacteria to make it environmentally friendly by decreasing it's phosphorous output. Care for an enviro pig ham sandwich that began with E. Coli?
They have also now grown poplar trees that can remove trichloroethylene — the most common groundwater contaminant from the soil from US Superfund Sites. Superfund even sounds like it is a good place, yes? Well they are polluted locations with hazardous material contamination. There are 1280 of them in the USA. No mention of how these wastes actually got into the ground water, someone would have to be blamed if they told us that, but the tests so far show that the plant absorbs this ground liquid contamination into it's roots, branches and leaves and then releases it into the air. What? Have they thought this through? Don't we breath air? Where's that Supervisor guy?


Cole slaw with your meal? Now we have venomous cabbage. Look what scientists have done, see, they put the gene that programs the poison in a scorpion's tail, into the cabbage so that when caterpillars bite it, they die. Really. Someone actually thought of this! And had it in for caterpiggles. Butterflies for petesakes! Were they sitting around playing canasta when one of them thought this one up and rushed back to his lab full of excitement and deadly ideas. Did his mom make him eat sauerkraut? Maybe it's the scientists themselves who are the result of genetic drift!
They have this huge Atlantic salmon coming soon too. Already called Frankenfish. Modified for growth by using a hormone from an eel-fish to make it grow and grow and grow like Topsy and doesn't know where it came from! Sort of into a tuna-sized salmon. Have you seen those grotesque hook-nosed spawning salmon in the rivers? What's it going to be like when they grow to 12 feet and start coming after us? You won't be fishing for these, they'll be fishing for you! They say the FDA will approve it for sale without labeling to tell (warn) you of the genetic modification. 
They made the Flavr Savr tomato years ago. They developed it by adding something called an antisense gene. Why does that somehow make sense? Didn't sell because they tasted like faded old blue jeans.

They are now tinkering with cows that produce less methane. You might know already that cows are hugely responsible for global warming and the melting of polar ice. The bovines have almost destroyed the ozone layer because their farts are methane carbon emissions. Won't your car run on methane? Why cant they divert that noxious gas to one of the udder teats and have it connect to your car? You could pull up to a farm, get a glass of milk, a round of cheese and a full gas tank! Of course a shuddering side effect might be that cows begin exploding.  
 
And beware of bananas. They have one now that can be vaccinated with a virus' genetic material that becomes a permanent part of the banana cells, thereby vaccinating YOU when you eat one. We might not even want to trust monkeys to test this one. Would the result be a super chimp who kicks Tarzan out of the tree fort and takes Jane for himself?
And they're playing with medicinal eggs too, by modifying the hens, putting miR24 in them. Take your eggs, Dear, they'll stop you from pissing yourself for 24 hours. Can they make chickens stop that infernal clucking while they're at it?
And here's one; a lab grown ovary that matures human eggs! You'll be able to conceive at the lab and just pick up your baby when it's ready! Maybe even at a Baby-Lab Drive-Thru window? I'll have Baby Jane number347 and large fries.

Do we need all this genetic interference with nature? The only genetic manipulation I want to be involved in is that in which I participate myself, like with the attractive widow next door.
Do we want to face it if there is a mistake? Can genetic engineering be retracted? Is someone creating Jabba the Hutt right now? Never mind the light saber, Luke, where's your salt shaker! How much messing around are they going to do before we are all mutated hideous transmogrified versions of ourselves?


Is a pissed off Mighty Mouse with a human sphincter going to change our world?  





Don't know about you, but I am expecting a Chupacabra any moment. 

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

The Prom


Prom night 1957

future portents

Two of these girls asked boys to take them to the prom,  one ordered a boy to take her.




"These little frillies are too damn stupid about boys,  I think I'll ratchet up my career and become a psychiatric nurse.  Now take the freaking picture,  Cheswick,  sit down and shut up."




with apologies to the great Louise Fletcher

Saturday, July 12, 2014

UAVs proliferate in cities


Coming to a highrise near you, a drone peeking into your window.

The US Military has the Predator, the Global Hawk, the Shadow the Swallow, the Raven, the Mantis, the Dragon Eye and on and on. But now drones have gotten into the hands of private business and even back yard hobbyists. Yes, window peepers can now be hobbyists. Predators in their own way. Stalkers in the sky. And everyone can buy a Phantom, or an Octocopter, a Multicopter, or an Arducopter, and with a Go-Pro attached, your lusty horizons and busty visions are limitless!

In Seattle, a half-dressed woman complained that a drone was filming her from outside her 26th floor apartment! It belonged to a real estate company who was 'filming the horizon' for a client! They didn't say if the woman was horizontal when she was peeked at. And this is only the beginning. The possibilities for sweaty voyeurs and crusty old lecherous peepers are endless now that the technology is in the hands of the masses. Now we can all  film the horizon! Your kids can build these things and may take sexting to the extreme!

This .....











... has become this  -  take a look at what private drones are doing ....

  of course you can't always be lucky .....







Nevertheless ....
Even FBI agents have said that the legality of drone use is becoming a problem. A great amount of these are now out there and safety is going to become an issue along with legalities of people peeking at their neighbors, spying on things. Hubby has abandoned the fresh air of the open park and the model airplane club and now flies a UAV downtown under cover of smog with the SkyPeepers.
Well, if it gets you out of your Mom's musty basement and away from the computer I suppose it is a good thing? 

But watch out, dusty old Grampaw sitting on that bench isn't quite as innocent as he once was, to hell with the squirrels, he's got a controller and a brand new tablet with him. And Google Glasses on order!
And that bulge isn't peanuts in his pocket. 


Watch the gusty skies.


and fight back.

 


Tuesday, July 08, 2014

Exercise Program


Bob's body parts face a dilemma ....



                   "So what's up with this?"

Brain           "Who's that?"

Thigh          "Me, Thigh. He's nearly running again today."

Brain           "Yeah he's started on some kind of exercise thing."

Thigh          "Well, I'm still aching from yesterday. I don't like it at all."

Foot            "You think that's bad, he's had those Adidas for 6 years, and now he wants to 
                    start running on them? They're worn out for Pete's sake! My arches
                    are falling."

Thigh          "C'mon Brain, no one wants any exercise program, what was wrong with 
                    him just sitting at the computer all day?"

Heart           "That was nice and relaxing, I never had to beat over 60 bpm. I could nap
                    from lunch to dinner time. And at night with TV I could just lie there
                    in a warm pool of blood."

Knees          "Yes, Brain, nag him about his bad knees again. I did what I could last night,
                    ached and ached."

Thigh          "So how determined is he anyway? I think he'll quit soon."

Brain           "Sometimes I can't tell him anything, it's like his mind has a mind of it's own."

Lungs          "Hey, that is your JOB, Brain. I can hardly keep up with all this oxygen! 
                   I used to be able to take every second breath off. Now I feel like some kind
                   of vacuum pump in a lead mine."

Brain           "You parts need to remember how good it was when he used to run the
                   Sea Wall every day. And do gym exercise too."

Stomach      "I liked that, he could eat cake whenever he wanted, and those donuts
                   with pink icing."

Thigh          "It's not all about you and your lascivious pleasures, Stomach. Some of us
                   have to work for a living. But walking two miles is excessive! From his bed to
                   the computer or TV is just right. No one needs to do more than that." 

Ego              "He's doing it to look good, doesn't want to get old and ugly."

ID                "He's already old, he should face it and quit picking out grey hairs and 
                    trimming his eyebrows. No girls gonna look at him. And there's a
                    wonderful variety of canes out now.  How can I make him cantankerous if 
                    he's looking good?"

Thigh           "Well if he tries this fast walk thing again tomorrow I'm getting a 
                    Charlie Horse."

Foot             "I might be able to rub up a few blisters ..... ID, couldn't you steer him into
                    a tree or something?"

Ego              "Don't ask ID to do stuff like that. You're flirting with disaster."

ID                "I don't flirt with anybody. I'll kick a puppy if you like."

Thigh           "We need to stay on target and stop this madness of exercise."

Lungs          "I tried gasping but he just waits a minute and starts up again."

Stomach      "I can't do much, he's drinking gallons of water. And only eats one cookie at 
                    a time now."

Muscles       "If he starts sit-ups we're all in trouble. The thing about pain is that it 
                   feels so good when it stops."

Brain           "You parts quit grumbling and wait and see what happens."


Rectum       "Um ... could I say something?" 



Brain           "No, you're never serious. You always make fun of the rest of us."

Thigh          "Yeah, shut up Rectum."

Rectum       "Think about it. Would that really be a good idea?"

Stomach      "Constipa .... C'mon, I can't deal with back-up again."

Brain           "Okay what is it then, Rectum? And no wise cracks."

Rectum       "I just wanted to remind you of how good it was last time he was 
                   active like this."

Thigh          "Meaning exactly what."

Rectum       "Everything worked properly. And when he went on the toilet he always 
                   had great bowel movements. They were soooo good."

Brain          "What?"

Rectum       "They were sooo-ooo good ....."

Thigh          "I get it, so how good were they?"

Rectum       "They were so good he couldn't flush without saying goodbye. Ha ha ha!"



                   "Asshole."

Rectum        "Who said that?"

Brain           "Oh sheeeez."

Thigh          "What 're we gonna do?"




Monday, July 07, 2014

Recycling in Spain


They have a great way to recycle automotive materials in Spain. 
Like in a car crash. Male drivers in EspaƱa follow their own machismo rules on the highway and a favorite game is to intimidate anyone in the fast lane by driving right up to your rear bumper to force you to pull across into a slower lane. Formula 1 driver Fernando Alonzo is a National hero. 

So if your nerves are not up to at least torrero standards, an accident may result.

Race everyone? Hell yes!


If your vehicle is then disabled to the point of being unable to drive it home for repairs. or worse, it is perhaps a write-off. If you have insurance at all. In some Mediterranean countries, the fine for driving without insurance is so low that many risk it instead of paying for the expensive coverage.   
More dangerous than Toro?


So you have an accidente. Your car is crunched.  And you fear the Guardia Civil.

What happens in Spain is that they, the senores from the Jefatura Provincial de Trafico de Malaga, just shove your cute little Seat (SeeAHT, a Spanish Fiat,)  over to the side of the road and simply leave it there.

In the first week, the battery, tires and wheels disappear. 
The thieves don't leave it suspended on four nice building blocks like you might find yours in the morning  here in North America when your wheels have been stolen, that would be wasteful, they use only one adobe block and a two by ten, or more likely a support pole 'borrowed' from a construction site. Easily leveraged for Hosay to lift any car while Roberto removes that wheel. Then plunk, onto the ground in 30 seconds and three more to go if they are undamaged. So the four wheels and tires are now gone. To a good home one could imagine. Even the Seat badge has become a great belt buckle. And you won't be protected by that Real Madrid crest, especially here in Andalusia.

In the second week, as you pass the now lowered Seat car hugging the ground like a legless beetle you might notice the seats (Seeets) missing, and probably any glass that was not broken in the impact. Windshield, side windows and rear windows. And anything possible from the dashboard, tachometer, speedometer in KPH,  gear knob, light switches, even the Bobblehead doll of Fernando that didn't bobble anymore and had somehow began to look more like the Frahnkensteen character from following too close to the leading car's exhaust pipe.

The third week. As you cruise by there will be nothing left of the front grill, chrome bumpers and trim. No headlights, tail lights, sidelights, doors or trunk lid!  Steering wheel gone. With remnants of snipped wiring dangling from under the dash or lying on the ground like rotting spaghetti. Most engine parts that come out will have been wrenched out.

On the fourth week, you'll slow as you pass and see nothing but a skeletal hulk, like some kind of alien bug that landed on the wrong planet and couldn't take the relentless Spanish sun. Wind wheezing through the shell like something from a Good, Bad, Ugly Spanish Western, that wiring swinging like a noose.


And if you're there at the right moment, you might see the flatbed truck from the highway department with a small crane on board. They stop right beside the former Seat, grasp it with medieval looking grappling hooks, and just hoist it onto the deck. 
And then it is gone in a diesel cloud. Off to a steel mill to become?  Banderillas?    Whatever. 

Fifth week, only an oil spot and tumbleweeds.  Try not to whistle.
Adios, poco amigo Seat.

Spanish recycling works.