Saturday, December 30, 2006
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
For The Boys
For The Girls...
For the hungry...
For the thirsty...
For me, cuz it's so hil-friggen-larious, it's worth repeating...
And finally, for you cuz...
That's what Charles Manson keeps saying anyway.
Lookin' 4 Good Driver Pix
to do some kind of airbrush artwork. NASCAR has some characters, I never realized how manly Stewie looked until I saw his face on a girl's body (see my entry from a few days ago for the picture). Wow, he would have made dogs howl had he been female, yet he's a handsome vagabond as a feller, go figure. Anyway, I know a few rabid Smoke fans, so I reckon he's gonna be one of the first I do. Too bad NASCAR's such a stickler about their licensing, I'll have to tread softly and avoid getting myself in twubble. Jr's got a great face, I think he'll be fun to paint, though it's gonna be a test of my simple mind to come up with a composition that hasn't already been beat to death, he's such a prominent figurehead of NASCAR. I really know nothing of any of the driver's personal lives I guess I'll have to dig a bit for this project. ARRRGH, I hate invading people's privacy, even when it's 'out there' with their permission.
If I'm not too busy I'll work up some driver cartoons and color them in Photoshop to tide me over til it gets warm enough to paint in the shop...I'll post 'em here & maybe on my IP area. :D Give me some practice and help me get to know their features.
You been to Infield Parking yet? You should go, looks like it's gonna be gargantuan, hop onboard while you can still think up a username. Apparently Jr.'s gonna be there occasionally in stealth mode, that should be fun for him, also a few other drivers are being invited to participate there. I think it's a great idea, one that was long overdue, and frankly my dear Scarlett, I am shocked it wasn't done sooner. Why, just today Ed Sullivan was at my spot, I'd seen his name kicking around the site, I tend to do some major lurking and am uncharacteristically quiet there. I'm thinking, 'wow, an Ed Sullivan fan, he's been dead what, 78 years?' I guess this guy is really named Ed Sullivan, I checked out his profile, he's CEO of IP. Nice to know he drifts about checking on profiles at his site, he's not just an empty seat at a boardroom meeting. Best of luck to you and your endeavors Mr. S! IP's going to be imitated a lot because it's going to be wildly successful. NASCAR thinks the sport isn't growing but I don't think they realize their fanbase is so freakin gigantic to begin with. Ed can mail them a clue in a few months once the site is officially up.
Yeah, it's gonna be huge. :)
If I'm not too busy I'll work up some driver cartoons and color them in Photoshop to tide me over til it gets warm enough to paint in the shop...I'll post 'em here & maybe on my IP area. :D Give me some practice and help me get to know their features.
You been to Infield Parking yet? You should go, looks like it's gonna be gargantuan, hop onboard while you can still think up a username. Apparently Jr.'s gonna be there occasionally in stealth mode, that should be fun for him, also a few other drivers are being invited to participate there. I think it's a great idea, one that was long overdue, and frankly my dear Scarlett, I am shocked it wasn't done sooner. Why, just today Ed Sullivan was at my spot, I'd seen his name kicking around the site, I tend to do some major lurking and am uncharacteristically quiet there. I'm thinking, 'wow, an Ed Sullivan fan, he's been dead what, 78 years?' I guess this guy is really named Ed Sullivan, I checked out his profile, he's CEO of IP. Nice to know he drifts about checking on profiles at his site, he's not just an empty seat at a boardroom meeting. Best of luck to you and your endeavors Mr. S! IP's going to be imitated a lot because it's going to be wildly successful. NASCAR thinks the sport isn't growing but I don't think they realize their fanbase is so freakin gigantic to begin with. Ed can mail them a clue in a few months once the site is officially up.
Yeah, it's gonna be huge. :)
Monday, December 18, 2006
Jeeze I Already Forgot....
what I was going to say here. Must not have been a burning issue, in which case your tender sensibilities have been mercifully spared. I expect to get my shiny new, innocent Paasche VLS airbrush from the Brown Truck tomorrow! YIPPEEEE, I've had to wait um...19 days, but I'm sure it's gonna be worth every moment of anticipation.
Now I have to order paint tomorrow...E'TAC, I want to try that stuff, everyone is raving about it. Oh boy, I'll be broke til 2007, but that's ok, it's gonna be fun if it stays at least 30F, so I can play a bit. Any colder and the paint freezes in the gun and takes days to dry. Guess I didn't tell you about the shop I paint in? I cannot remember, if you have heard this before, go take some coffee while I repeat myself.
The shop is for semi tractors, it has 2 huge bay doors, one on the west and one on the south side, with a normal sized entrance door at the south end of the west wall. At least one is usually open, the shop holds two semi tractors, sans trailers, at a time. Its cold, grimy, gritty and a veritable candy store for anything containing testosterone. Usually there is one bay door wide open, with a semi protruding from it, so if it's 25F outside, it's 25F inside. If by some miracle the doors are closed, the 30 foot open beam ceiling makes it virtually impossible to heat, as all the heat is shot straight up to the roof. There is a monster wood stove (you could comfortably fit 4 grown men horizontally in it) which I am set up next to, so if it is hot, one side of me is roasting like a Thanksgiving turkey. Since heat attracts cold, whichever side is facing away from the fire gets a frigid breeze as the air circulates.
Oh how I wish that Publishers Clearing House van would hurry up and get here already, I would build myself a dandy shop, with insulation, doors that close tight, ceiling fans to circulate the warm air back down, storage, windows so I can see outside, shiny and clean with painted concrete floors. I'd probably even put living quarters in the corner somewhere, since I'd likely be spending so much time there anyway. I get carried away, if my back didn't hurt so horribly, I'd stay out longer than I do, it's so much fun I hate to stop. 7 hours with one quick break is just too hard on the bod.
You back from your coffee yet? Good. I know I neglected to tell you about the ghost in the shop. I go for walks, often at night. When I get back home, sometimes I go to the shop first to look at what I am working on, make decisions, and ponder the fate of cannibal pygmies in darkest Africa. One night, I open the old door with the loose window that rattles and as I step in the pitch blackness, I hear what sounds to me like a large hex bolt and some lighter metallic object hit the concrete floor at the back of the shop behind one of the semi's parked in it. I fumbled for the ill placed light switches and gingerly walk toward the facing semi's to take a look around the other side. I stood between the bumpers, not sure I wanted to find an intruder, so I turn to walk out. Chris's truck isn't all the way in the shop, so the bay doors are open on either side of it, his passenger door is ajar.
I walked back out the door I came in, turning off the lights as I went, and stood for a moment. Curiosity got the better of me, I just had to see who was in there, so I re-entered, turned on the lights again, and looked for a weapon. I walked back to where I heard the noise, there are plenty of hiding places, cupboards, huge boxes, nooks and crannies...I looked on the floor and there was a semi lug nut and a huge metal washer lying on the floor. I stood there for a few minutes, waiting for some noise to give the intruder's whereabouts away, but there was none so I left.
A few nights later Chris and I were in the shop talking, the west bay door was ajar about 3 feet, the south bay door wide open with a truck on the threshold. We were near the east wall where the stove and my airbrush setup is, when we heard the entrance door open (it rattles and makes a hell of a racket), close, open, close, open, close...5 times, very fast and very hard. He started for the door, I ran to the open west bay door and we both peered out. Nobody was there. The parking lot is about 80 feet across and at least twice that wide, there was no way someone could hide. We both looked at eachother and shrugged then went inside and told ghost stories, lol. A few weeks later I started to tell my cousin about what happened and she shrieked "THAT SHOP IS HAUNTED!!! IT'S CREEPY AND I WON'T GO IN IT!" She said when she was very small, my dad had the back door unlocked, so she went in (this was supposed to be an office but was never finished. It's on the north wall, I can't remember if it has a window or not, but I was only in it once when I was quite young. He keeps it locked) and when she got all the way inside she said she "saw a man" in there. She said it scared her so bad she never wanted to go in the shop again. Ahh, boys and girls, there are your bedtime ghost stories. Redrum. :D
Now I have to order paint tomorrow...E'TAC, I want to try that stuff, everyone is raving about it. Oh boy, I'll be broke til 2007, but that's ok, it's gonna be fun if it stays at least 30F, so I can play a bit. Any colder and the paint freezes in the gun and takes days to dry. Guess I didn't tell you about the shop I paint in? I cannot remember, if you have heard this before, go take some coffee while I repeat myself.
The shop is for semi tractors, it has 2 huge bay doors, one on the west and one on the south side, with a normal sized entrance door at the south end of the west wall. At least one is usually open, the shop holds two semi tractors, sans trailers, at a time. Its cold, grimy, gritty and a veritable candy store for anything containing testosterone. Usually there is one bay door wide open, with a semi protruding from it, so if it's 25F outside, it's 25F inside. If by some miracle the doors are closed, the 30 foot open beam ceiling makes it virtually impossible to heat, as all the heat is shot straight up to the roof. There is a monster wood stove (you could comfortably fit 4 grown men horizontally in it) which I am set up next to, so if it is hot, one side of me is roasting like a Thanksgiving turkey. Since heat attracts cold, whichever side is facing away from the fire gets a frigid breeze as the air circulates.
Oh how I wish that Publishers Clearing House van would hurry up and get here already, I would build myself a dandy shop, with insulation, doors that close tight, ceiling fans to circulate the warm air back down, storage, windows so I can see outside, shiny and clean with painted concrete floors. I'd probably even put living quarters in the corner somewhere, since I'd likely be spending so much time there anyway. I get carried away, if my back didn't hurt so horribly, I'd stay out longer than I do, it's so much fun I hate to stop. 7 hours with one quick break is just too hard on the bod.
You back from your coffee yet? Good. I know I neglected to tell you about the ghost in the shop. I go for walks, often at night. When I get back home, sometimes I go to the shop first to look at what I am working on, make decisions, and ponder the fate of cannibal pygmies in darkest Africa. One night, I open the old door with the loose window that rattles and as I step in the pitch blackness, I hear what sounds to me like a large hex bolt and some lighter metallic object hit the concrete floor at the back of the shop behind one of the semi's parked in it. I fumbled for the ill placed light switches and gingerly walk toward the facing semi's to take a look around the other side. I stood between the bumpers, not sure I wanted to find an intruder, so I turn to walk out. Chris's truck isn't all the way in the shop, so the bay doors are open on either side of it, his passenger door is ajar.
I walked back out the door I came in, turning off the lights as I went, and stood for a moment. Curiosity got the better of me, I just had to see who was in there, so I re-entered, turned on the lights again, and looked for a weapon. I walked back to where I heard the noise, there are plenty of hiding places, cupboards, huge boxes, nooks and crannies...I looked on the floor and there was a semi lug nut and a huge metal washer lying on the floor. I stood there for a few minutes, waiting for some noise to give the intruder's whereabouts away, but there was none so I left.
A few nights later Chris and I were in the shop talking, the west bay door was ajar about 3 feet, the south bay door wide open with a truck on the threshold. We were near the east wall where the stove and my airbrush setup is, when we heard the entrance door open (it rattles and makes a hell of a racket), close, open, close, open, close...5 times, very fast and very hard. He started for the door, I ran to the open west bay door and we both peered out. Nobody was there. The parking lot is about 80 feet across and at least twice that wide, there was no way someone could hide. We both looked at eachother and shrugged then went inside and told ghost stories, lol. A few weeks later I started to tell my cousin about what happened and she shrieked "THAT SHOP IS HAUNTED!!! IT'S CREEPY AND I WON'T GO IN IT!" She said when she was very small, my dad had the back door unlocked, so she went in (this was supposed to be an office but was never finished. It's on the north wall, I can't remember if it has a window or not, but I was only in it once when I was quite young. He keeps it locked) and when she got all the way inside she said she "saw a man" in there. She said it scared her so bad she never wanted to go in the shop again. Ahh, boys and girls, there are your bedtime ghost stories. Redrum. :D
Friday, December 15, 2006
Ohhh Mah Gawwd
I just saw this on Jr's forum, and it keeps crackin' me up, so I had to steal it and share with you, my imaginary friends.
Check out Kasey Kahne, holy is that ever fricken hilarious! And Smoke so protective...bwahahaha, but dammit, Mark Martin is kind of scary. Every time I look at it, I just bust up!
I finally got some airtime today, but froze my patootie off. Ok, just my feet and nose most of the time, but I was having such fun I stayed out too long and got the back spasms to prove it, I feel like a Mack truck hit me...maybe it did. It took an hour in the shower with scalding water to get warm enough to breathe. I checked the temp in the shop a few hours before I came in the house, it was 35F. Considering I was out there for 7+ hours, I guess I was relatively warm, I did take a break, but it wasn't inside. Would have helped if I'd had something to eat but once I get started on things I like to do I don't think of much else. I get another day of it tomorrow, and the high is going to be 30F...Booooring, yes. I'm in tremendous pain, you are lucky I'm here at all you ungrateful little twit.
Check out Kasey Kahne, holy is that ever fricken hilarious! And Smoke so protective...bwahahaha, but dammit, Mark Martin is kind of scary. Every time I look at it, I just bust up!
I finally got some airtime today, but froze my patootie off. Ok, just my feet and nose most of the time, but I was having such fun I stayed out too long and got the back spasms to prove it, I feel like a Mack truck hit me...maybe it did. It took an hour in the shower with scalding water to get warm enough to breathe. I checked the temp in the shop a few hours before I came in the house, it was 35F. Considering I was out there for 7+ hours, I guess I was relatively warm, I did take a break, but it wasn't inside. Would have helped if I'd had something to eat but once I get started on things I like to do I don't think of much else. I get another day of it tomorrow, and the high is going to be 30F...Booooring, yes. I'm in tremendous pain, you are lucky I'm here at all you ungrateful little twit.
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Wow...Is It....Could It Be?
A record? I have remembered I have a blog, and further more, to post here for over a week now. Is anyone awarding a medal or anything for that?
Yesterday it was over 50F with lotsa wind blowing, but so niiiiice and I was too damn busy to enjoy it, the weatherman said more of the same today so I didn't sweat it, figured I'd get out in the shop and shoot some paint. Now, why, I ask you, would I believe anything those dirty, low-down weatherfolk have to say? They are easily wrong at least 50% if the time yet I blindly trust them like a lovesick schoolgirl with her first crush. Curses! How can I remain so steadfastly naive? Today, it doesn't get above 35F, it's an overcast, ugly, grey, gloomy day, ideal for a mass cult suicide. Just before it got dark the snow began, and the streets had just finally cleared of their compact ice thanks to yesterday's chinook. Now we begin this all over again, except the last time I was outside there was freezing rain tossed into the mix. The weatherdevils never said anything about freezing rain, must have been their little inside joke.
Though my Prelude has front wheel drive, it has frilly new Florida tires on it which get squeamish and don't behave when their dainty treads deign to touch anything with a surface temperature below 80F. I'm too stubborn to purchase winter tires, so it should prove to be an entertaining winter.
I went into deep mourning yesterday when I had to change my license plate from the sunny single Florida tag to the mandatory front/back Washington plates, but it had to be done unless I wanted to spend another month hoofing it in subzero weather wherever I went. My first experience with the season's snow, I back up, turn the car around and gun it a little to see how slick the large unplowed parking area was, nearly sliding into a friend's wife's new quad cab pickup. His wife always gives me the squint eye and refuses to speak to me, no matter how friendly I am to her, so I had a quick daydream of sideswiping her purty new Dodge and the look on her face when she saw it. That was fun, put me in a better mood, and I was off to see what sort of mischief I could get into down town. None, I'm afraid. News of my presence behind the wheel superseded my arrival apparently, and the streets were empty of man and beast. If you've never driven in fresh snow, the one really nice thing is, your car is practically in stealth mode, it is so quiet and smooth you could sneak up on a seismograph.
Where in the hell was I going with all this? I'm tired, got 2 hours of sleep last night, woke up at 4am...
OH, I know, though uninteresting and anticlimactic, I will clue you in. Tonight we are expecting 60mph winds and snow. Quite possible that power will be out. HAH! Now...do I once again put my trust in the fickle and questionable words of the oft inaccurate weatherimps? I am too tired to care at this point, but I am expecting exciting weather in approximately half an hour but with any luck I will sleep through it and I can pretend that the weatherdevils were right for once.
Yesterday it was over 50F with lotsa wind blowing, but so niiiiice and I was too damn busy to enjoy it, the weatherman said more of the same today so I didn't sweat it, figured I'd get out in the shop and shoot some paint. Now, why, I ask you, would I believe anything those dirty, low-down weatherfolk have to say? They are easily wrong at least 50% if the time yet I blindly trust them like a lovesick schoolgirl with her first crush. Curses! How can I remain so steadfastly naive? Today, it doesn't get above 35F, it's an overcast, ugly, grey, gloomy day, ideal for a mass cult suicide. Just before it got dark the snow began, and the streets had just finally cleared of their compact ice thanks to yesterday's chinook. Now we begin this all over again, except the last time I was outside there was freezing rain tossed into the mix. The weatherdevils never said anything about freezing rain, must have been their little inside joke.
Though my Prelude has front wheel drive, it has frilly new Florida tires on it which get squeamish and don't behave when their dainty treads deign to touch anything with a surface temperature below 80F. I'm too stubborn to purchase winter tires, so it should prove to be an entertaining winter.
I went into deep mourning yesterday when I had to change my license plate from the sunny single Florida tag to the mandatory front/back Washington plates, but it had to be done unless I wanted to spend another month hoofing it in subzero weather wherever I went. My first experience with the season's snow, I back up, turn the car around and gun it a little to see how slick the large unplowed parking area was, nearly sliding into a friend's wife's new quad cab pickup. His wife always gives me the squint eye and refuses to speak to me, no matter how friendly I am to her, so I had a quick daydream of sideswiping her purty new Dodge and the look on her face when she saw it. That was fun, put me in a better mood, and I was off to see what sort of mischief I could get into down town. None, I'm afraid. News of my presence behind the wheel superseded my arrival apparently, and the streets were empty of man and beast. If you've never driven in fresh snow, the one really nice thing is, your car is practically in stealth mode, it is so quiet and smooth you could sneak up on a seismograph.
Where in the hell was I going with all this? I'm tired, got 2 hours of sleep last night, woke up at 4am...
OH, I know, though uninteresting and anticlimactic, I will clue you in. Tonight we are expecting 60mph winds and snow. Quite possible that power will be out. HAH! Now...do I once again put my trust in the fickle and questionable words of the oft inaccurate weatherimps? I am too tired to care at this point, but I am expecting exciting weather in approximately half an hour but with any luck I will sleep through it and I can pretend that the weatherdevils were right for once.
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
You Guys
feel free to post your blog site links here. I just signed up at Dale, Jr.'s site (I got the link from Clance's Church of the Great Oval message board, thanks for posting that Craig (fanforlife03), in case you missed it here is his link and the link to Jr.s site:
www.infieldparking.com
http://www.infieldparking.com/fanforlife03
I found my Christmas present to myself today, though resisted temptation and left it on the shelf betting that it will go on sale after Christmas. It won't of course. It's a wee bit of a chandelier I found at Walmart for half a C note. In case you're wondering, I have champagne taste with a water budget. Fortunately for me I know how to make a little go a long way, this ESTP/ISTP artsy-fartsy temperament has a positive side, with a little paint, duct tape and a safety pin, I can make a catbox look like Tiffany's display window.
I purchased a cheap airbrush for my birthday last month, a Paasche VLS, it was $69 with free shipping if I ordered it by Nov. 30th. Well, I horsewhipped my conscience, threw caution to the wind and with only moments to spare bit the bullet and thrust forth my order. My fatal mistake was opting to use PayPal on whim, thinking I was saving my credit card from possible theft, since the purchase was online. A while back I had to update my PP account with my new CC number and expiration date. All well and good except PP decided to mess with my billing address. I tried many times to fix it, to no avail. I wrote them twice, my letters apparently landing in the mailbox of the sole blind employee at PP. The business I ordered my airbrush from said they wouldn't be able to send the brush since PP hadn't authorized my billing address. Even though PP shows $69 went through to their company on Nov 30 for a Paasche VLS airbrush. My bank account shows a $69 debit to Pay Pal on Nov. 30...drama, always with the drama. Such is my life, nothing is EVER easy. After much wrangling with the airbrush company, I THINK they finally agreed to send the brush out in spite of PP's screwups, on the 13th when it is back in stock. With any luck I will get that airbrush before I lose my sight to old age and avarice. Here's to you PayPal:
Oh! I had a point here. For Christmas, I was going to buy my bad self some E'TAC or House of Kolor (HOK) paints to use in that yet to be seen airbrush. Perhaps I should stick with the more practical choice of a mini chandelier.
www.infieldparking.com
http://www.infieldparking.com/fanforlife03
I found my Christmas present to myself today, though resisted temptation and left it on the shelf betting that it will go on sale after Christmas. It won't of course. It's a wee bit of a chandelier I found at Walmart for half a C note. In case you're wondering, I have champagne taste with a water budget. Fortunately for me I know how to make a little go a long way, this ESTP/ISTP artsy-fartsy temperament has a positive side, with a little paint, duct tape and a safety pin, I can make a catbox look like Tiffany's display window.
I purchased a cheap airbrush for my birthday last month, a Paasche VLS, it was $69 with free shipping if I ordered it by Nov. 30th. Well, I horsewhipped my conscience, threw caution to the wind and with only moments to spare bit the bullet and thrust forth my order. My fatal mistake was opting to use PayPal on whim, thinking I was saving my credit card from possible theft, since the purchase was online. A while back I had to update my PP account with my new CC number and expiration date. All well and good except PP decided to mess with my billing address. I tried many times to fix it, to no avail. I wrote them twice, my letters apparently landing in the mailbox of the sole blind employee at PP. The business I ordered my airbrush from said they wouldn't be able to send the brush since PP hadn't authorized my billing address. Even though PP shows $69 went through to their company on Nov 30 for a Paasche VLS airbrush. My bank account shows a $69 debit to Pay Pal on Nov. 30...drama, always with the drama. Such is my life, nothing is EVER easy. After much wrangling with the airbrush company, I THINK they finally agreed to send the brush out in spite of PP's screwups, on the 13th when it is back in stock. With any luck I will get that airbrush before I lose my sight to old age and avarice. Here's to you PayPal:
Oh! I had a point here. For Christmas, I was going to buy my bad self some E'TAC or House of Kolor (HOK) paints to use in that yet to be seen airbrush. Perhaps I should stick with the more practical choice of a mini chandelier.
Friday, December 8, 2006
Wow 2 Entries Today
Must be your lucky day. I wasn't going to, I could have added on to my first but stewartfan left a comment on yesterday's post that I wanted to address. It spins off from my chagrin about Jr. saying he thought new NASCAR fans weren't bombarding the sport in hordes because the races and seasons are too long. I disagreed.
I gotta plan. NASCAR, the France's et al, should love it, in fact I'm sure they've already thought of this. They are proposing new tracks in various places, Seattle, Portland, OR., etc. As it is now, they usually race each track in the circuit twice a year. I kind of like that scenario, everyone has their favorite and least favorite track where they do better and worse. This way a driver can redeem himself if he has a mishap or needs points he knows he can regain some at his favorite track. Least fav tracks are good to help them hone up on their skills for whatever it is that is holding them back at those tracks. Now, on to the dessert...
I think once there are more tracks, or racers, or both, they should have east coast/west coast franchises or something (like pro football has where teams play against their leagues), then at some point, the best racers merge into racing eachother. The race for the cup is already somewhat like that, but why not give more people a chance to race, more tracks to race on and more fan events to go to? This would make NASCAR affiliates a load more cash, which is what it's all about to those guys anyway, and it would create more rivalry, spirit and excitement for the fans.
Quite honestly there are enough tracks out there, the one in Daytona sits unused the majority of the year, though I would like to see them more regional, the closest track to where I am right now is probably Las Vegas or Corona, both are 1250 miles away. These tracks make the cities and states lots of tax money, fans are great revenue generators. Ok, I'm undecided on the tracks, it's not something I've been terribly concerned with, but the Red Team/Blue Team concept is something I'd like to see given a whirl.
Pro's and con's are encouraged on this topic. stewartfan made a good point about driver fatigue with the long season, and that is true, though if you are realistic about it, they are getting a 2 month vacation every year, make stupid money for what they do, and are very fortunate that the sport today has accorded them the wealth they have. I believe NASCAR has promoted the sport and drivers to the best of their ability in the past several years, a win-win situation for both, as driver recognition has catapulted them into stardom, and with that comes licensing, sponsor and product promotion dollars. More visibility and recognition equals more fans, race ticket sales, NASCAR sanctioned memorabilia, etc. I'm not sure exactly how many hours per week they work, I know some carry a pretty heavy workload, especially the more popular drivers, but compare what you do, how much you make and how much vacation time you get per year and I think you'll see they have it pretty good. Yeah, maybe pro football, baseball and basketball luminaries have more time off, if Jeff Gordon wants to play football, go for it, let someone else who has the fever drive the 24. Ya know what I'm sayin?
I gotta plan. NASCAR, the France's et al, should love it, in fact I'm sure they've already thought of this. They are proposing new tracks in various places, Seattle, Portland, OR., etc. As it is now, they usually race each track in the circuit twice a year. I kind of like that scenario, everyone has their favorite and least favorite track where they do better and worse. This way a driver can redeem himself if he has a mishap or needs points he knows he can regain some at his favorite track. Least fav tracks are good to help them hone up on their skills for whatever it is that is holding them back at those tracks. Now, on to the dessert...
I think once there are more tracks, or racers, or both, they should have east coast/west coast franchises or something (like pro football has where teams play against their leagues), then at some point, the best racers merge into racing eachother. The race for the cup is already somewhat like that, but why not give more people a chance to race, more tracks to race on and more fan events to go to? This would make NASCAR affiliates a load more cash, which is what it's all about to those guys anyway, and it would create more rivalry, spirit and excitement for the fans.
Quite honestly there are enough tracks out there, the one in Daytona sits unused the majority of the year, though I would like to see them more regional, the closest track to where I am right now is probably Las Vegas or Corona, both are 1250 miles away. These tracks make the cities and states lots of tax money, fans are great revenue generators. Ok, I'm undecided on the tracks, it's not something I've been terribly concerned with, but the Red Team/Blue Team concept is something I'd like to see given a whirl.
Pro's and con's are encouraged on this topic. stewartfan made a good point about driver fatigue with the long season, and that is true, though if you are realistic about it, they are getting a 2 month vacation every year, make stupid money for what they do, and are very fortunate that the sport today has accorded them the wealth they have. I believe NASCAR has promoted the sport and drivers to the best of their ability in the past several years, a win-win situation for both, as driver recognition has catapulted them into stardom, and with that comes licensing, sponsor and product promotion dollars. More visibility and recognition equals more fans, race ticket sales, NASCAR sanctioned memorabilia, etc. I'm not sure exactly how many hours per week they work, I know some carry a pretty heavy workload, especially the more popular drivers, but compare what you do, how much you make and how much vacation time you get per year and I think you'll see they have it pretty good. Yeah, maybe pro football, baseball and basketball luminaries have more time off, if Jeff Gordon wants to play football, go for it, let someone else who has the fever drive the 24. Ya know what I'm sayin?
Nose To The Grindstone
I've been cooking up Christmas presents all day yesterday and today, I'm such a slavedriver. I had a natural cosmetics business for a brief time, until I got bored with it and closed shop. It was quite successful I peddled my wares in local health food stores and boutiques; people across the nation (not many, just spread far and wide) who had visited the area and discovered my little gems were having my products shipped to them. Ahhh, I'm bragging, yes. I detest braggarts. Perhaps I was simply making a sales pitch, should I ever get back into the business. HAH! Not likely. I forgot how bloody long it takes to make that stuff, Body Polish (you use it in the shower, it's slightly abrasive so it exfoliates, then it turns to lotion which you rinse off leaving your newly shining bod soft and squeezable), Body Butter (creme that is thick and rich, the consistency of butter). Tomorrow it's lotion day, and if I can fire up some enthusiasm, perhaps some fragrance sprays. Then it's martini's and men for the remainder of the evening, one needs to reward one's self for a job well done. Oh rats, no martinis or 'men' for me tomorrow nite, it's more likely CC & Coke with King Badness, forgot I have a date.
Whazzup with Yahoo? They were supposed to be doing maintenance from 5:30 to 7:30. It's 9:30 and it's all whacked out. They need to unfix it. I'm disgruntled.
So what do you think of um...telepathy? Are you for it? I'm for it. Yes, I think it's a great time and money saver. Is there a poll feature on this here blog thang? It's Friday night, I just walked through town and there are a lot of people out having fun, but I have no one to go have fun with, my sister is doing her mushroom impersonation and sitting at home. Tomorrow night I'll be out with King Badness, so even if I see someone I'm interested in, I'll be tied up, but that's ok, I could be home partaking in fungus competition with my sibling.
Whazzup with Yahoo? They were supposed to be doing maintenance from 5:30 to 7:30. It's 9:30 and it's all whacked out. They need to unfix it. I'm disgruntled.
So what do you think of um...telepathy? Are you for it? I'm for it. Yes, I think it's a great time and money saver. Is there a poll feature on this here blog thang? It's Friday night, I just walked through town and there are a lot of people out having fun, but I have no one to go have fun with, my sister is doing her mushroom impersonation and sitting at home. Tomorrow night I'll be out with King Badness, so even if I see someone I'm interested in, I'll be tied up, but that's ok, I could be home partaking in fungus competition with my sibling.
Thursday, December 7, 2006
I'm here...
so are you if you're reading this. Hello.
Lots of elbow room in this here place, not a lot of visitors, though that is sometimes how I like it; when I post something I change my mind about putting up (which happens a lot if you've caught some of my before and afters you already know) I whisk it down, hacking at it savagely until it is unrecognizable and totally free of any pesky too revealing items. I think I've changed nearly every post I've put up so far...
Not a lot going on, worked on some Christmas presents today which sucked the life from my very bones, but I'm glad I got most of that phase done. I was making cosmetics I use to have for my business, they took seemingly forever. Making lotion tomorrow...do you sense my excitement? No, I thought not. There is none, I just want it to be over with, I'm kind of depressed I guess, unusual for me, got a lot of stuff on my mind. S-T-U-F-F. stuff. s t u f f. Heaps, piles, mountains of stuff.
I wish NASCAR would hurry up and make racing year around. I'm still annoyed at Jr. for saying he thought the lack of fanbase growth was due to races and the season being too long!!! I think it's because there is that pesky "toothless-wife beating-beer swilling-drunken redneck" fan image that attached itself to the sport for some reason, that continues to stereotype everything NASCAR. Ok, so I'm toofless...and I swill the occasional beer...I have experienced drunkeness...I've dated rednecks...however I DO NOT BEAT MY WIFE and wouldn't if I had one! But then, if I had a wife, this would be a whole 'nother type blog now wouldn't it? At any rate, not everyone is interested in cars rapidly going in circles, one must deal with the reality of it and move on, besides, it leaves more parking spaces at the track for us.
Lots of elbow room in this here place, not a lot of visitors, though that is sometimes how I like it; when I post something I change my mind about putting up (which happens a lot if you've caught some of my before and afters you already know) I whisk it down, hacking at it savagely until it is unrecognizable and totally free of any pesky too revealing items. I think I've changed nearly every post I've put up so far...
Not a lot going on, worked on some Christmas presents today which sucked the life from my very bones, but I'm glad I got most of that phase done. I was making cosmetics I use to have for my business, they took seemingly forever. Making lotion tomorrow...do you sense my excitement? No, I thought not. There is none, I just want it to be over with, I'm kind of depressed I guess, unusual for me, got a lot of stuff on my mind. S-T-U-F-F. stuff. s t u f f. Heaps, piles, mountains of stuff.
I wish NASCAR would hurry up and make racing year around. I'm still annoyed at Jr. for saying he thought the lack of fanbase growth was due to races and the season being too long!!! I think it's because there is that pesky "toothless-wife beating-beer swilling-drunken redneck" fan image that attached itself to the sport for some reason, that continues to stereotype everything NASCAR. Ok, so I'm toofless...and I swill the occasional beer...I have experienced drunkeness...I've dated rednecks...however I DO NOT BEAT MY WIFE and wouldn't if I had one! But then, if I had a wife, this would be a whole 'nother type blog now wouldn't it? At any rate, not everyone is interested in cars rapidly going in circles, one must deal with the reality of it and move on, besides, it leaves more parking spaces at the track for us.
Tuesday, December 5, 2006
Hot Diggity Blog
I forgot I have a blog. Yes, I did. I told you I might, so stop nagging me about it already. This is why I don't have pets.
I found a NASCAR test, it's about as inane a test as you can find, but it is the off season, and anything NASCAR is as rare as real boobs in Hollywood. http://www.okcupid.com/tests/take?testid=2390099205785983801
I still have no sweetie. All the good ones are taken.
I do have a date this Saturday night, reruns I'm afraid, King of the Bad Boys, what did I ever see in him, bad boys annoy the hell out of me, I probably thought in all that horse shit there must be a pony somewhere. Or it could have been the summer I drank my entire paycheck, & "rational judgment" was an oxymoron. We were good friends, I dated his little brother (another colossal misdeed we won't get into here), then King Bad and I dated, then we didn't but we remained friends, which is how I prefer it with this one. He's an ESTJ, and for some reason that is the type of the majority of my ex's. We just seem to be naturally drawn to each other-probably because I'm the only one who can deal with his moody, crappy attitude. Not that he's always like that, but he is very intense and bull headed, I guess I just know how to handle that sort, as we've never got into a serious argument that I can recall and I always seem to know how to get him to laugh. One of the 'taken' good ones I refer to above, he, too is an ESTJ. My last boyfriend is an ESTJ as well. What the hell am I talking about, you ask? Go read more of my blog, there is an explanation for you in it somewhere. I am too lazy to repeat myself here.
Anyway, this King of Badness wants me to go out this Saturday night. He said something yesterday about making me a fabulous dinner at some time, he's a phenomenal cook, probably the best I've encountered. I caught him staring at me several times this past weekend, and doing things for me, like making my coffee and bringing it to me, serving me dinner and breakfast, bizarre behavior for him, I have a sneaking suspicion he has suddenly chosen to become serious in his attention to me and I cannot imagine what sparked that bit of insanity. Somethings up, I'll get it out of him this weekend.
Sometimes I think he is superficial, then he sucker punches me with some insightful tidbit that totally throws me off balance and I realize he is far more observant than I give him credit for. We were supposed to go out last Saturday but he was cutting and wrapping a few sides of beef and got behind. I told him if my car was legal I would drive up and help him. He offered to drive the 64 mile round trip to pick me up so I went to his moms ranch where the meat cutting facilities are, and stayed until Monday.
On the drive up I told him about a person I was strongly attracted to, I'll call him Yeager, he said he thought last summer I was already involved with Yeager because of how I talked about him back then. That was reality slapping me upside the hollow thing that serves as my head, I'm really quite angry at myself for getting emotionally involved with Yeager to begin with-even more involved than I realized according to King Bad (curses, he was right damn him), though Yeager is an amazing man and I couldn't help myself. To my credit I did fight it, and thought I had won. If not for the dire shortage of eligible and decent men in this sparsely populated frontier village, I would call it a crime, because normally I would be off frolicking with some handsome, dashing fellow which would have prevented these idle hands from being the Devil's plaything.
Fortunately I am shallow enough that this attack of conscience will be all too brief, and as is typical of my past behavior, I will throw caution and good sense to the wind, thoroughly enjoying myself as I jettison body and soul to places angels fear to tread. I hope I don't make too much of an ass of myself, I do have to face Yeager fairly often. Oh well, sometimes I am compelled beyond my limits to get things off my chest just to force a response so I know which way the wind blows-I hate not knowing.
Anyway, as to the Yeager issue, if you knew the whole of it you would undoubtedly attempt to foist a medal or a Monarchy upon me for my restraint, you will simply have to take my word for it that I've struggled valiantly with this.
I found a NASCAR test, it's about as inane a test as you can find, but it is the off season, and anything NASCAR is as rare as real boobs in Hollywood. http://www.okcupid.com/tests/take?testid=2390099205785983801
I still have no sweetie. All the good ones are taken.
I do have a date this Saturday night, reruns I'm afraid, King of the Bad Boys, what did I ever see in him, bad boys annoy the hell out of me, I probably thought in all that horse shit there must be a pony somewhere. Or it could have been the summer I drank my entire paycheck, & "rational judgment" was an oxymoron. We were good friends, I dated his little brother (another colossal misdeed we won't get into here), then King Bad and I dated, then we didn't but we remained friends, which is how I prefer it with this one. He's an ESTJ, and for some reason that is the type of the majority of my ex's. We just seem to be naturally drawn to each other-probably because I'm the only one who can deal with his moody, crappy attitude. Not that he's always like that, but he is very intense and bull headed, I guess I just know how to handle that sort, as we've never got into a serious argument that I can recall and I always seem to know how to get him to laugh. One of the 'taken' good ones I refer to above, he, too is an ESTJ. My last boyfriend is an ESTJ as well. What the hell am I talking about, you ask? Go read more of my blog, there is an explanation for you in it somewhere. I am too lazy to repeat myself here.
Anyway, this King of Badness wants me to go out this Saturday night. He said something yesterday about making me a fabulous dinner at some time, he's a phenomenal cook, probably the best I've encountered. I caught him staring at me several times this past weekend, and doing things for me, like making my coffee and bringing it to me, serving me dinner and breakfast, bizarre behavior for him, I have a sneaking suspicion he has suddenly chosen to become serious in his attention to me and I cannot imagine what sparked that bit of insanity. Somethings up, I'll get it out of him this weekend.
Sometimes I think he is superficial, then he sucker punches me with some insightful tidbit that totally throws me off balance and I realize he is far more observant than I give him credit for. We were supposed to go out last Saturday but he was cutting and wrapping a few sides of beef and got behind. I told him if my car was legal I would drive up and help him. He offered to drive the 64 mile round trip to pick me up so I went to his moms ranch where the meat cutting facilities are, and stayed until Monday.
On the drive up I told him about a person I was strongly attracted to, I'll call him Yeager, he said he thought last summer I was already involved with Yeager because of how I talked about him back then. That was reality slapping me upside the hollow thing that serves as my head, I'm really quite angry at myself for getting emotionally involved with Yeager to begin with-even more involved than I realized according to King Bad (curses, he was right damn him), though Yeager is an amazing man and I couldn't help myself. To my credit I did fight it, and thought I had won. If not for the dire shortage of eligible and decent men in this sparsely populated frontier village, I would call it a crime, because normally I would be off frolicking with some handsome, dashing fellow which would have prevented these idle hands from being the Devil's plaything.
Fortunately I am shallow enough that this attack of conscience will be all too brief, and as is typical of my past behavior, I will throw caution and good sense to the wind, thoroughly enjoying myself as I jettison body and soul to places angels fear to tread. I hope I don't make too much of an ass of myself, I do have to face Yeager fairly often. Oh well, sometimes I am compelled beyond my limits to get things off my chest just to force a response so I know which way the wind blows-I hate not knowing.
Anyway, as to the Yeager issue, if you knew the whole of it you would undoubtedly attempt to foist a medal or a Monarchy upon me for my restraint, you will simply have to take my word for it that I've struggled valiantly with this.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Naked Ladies...
Yeah, I knew that would catch someone's attention. PERV! Well, this is about nudity of sorts, I'm going to post my first moments of up close and personal airbrush action. My first masterpiece is on a big cardboard box, my friend painted some flame outlines and a '3' in black when he was showing me how to spray and add paint to the gun. I did the rest of the work, just goofing around, added color, made a flame stencil I used in the lower left corner-looks dorky but I was playing...it was a blast!
Where is the nudity? Well, I'm not one of those who sits at their computer in the buff, though I know a few who are...all men strangely enough, and that is terrain I refuse to explore, thus preserving my innocence and our friendship. I wonder how an anonymous poll would turn out on that subject? Do I reallllly want to know? No. Let's forage ahead, shall we?
The little vintage cowgirl image is taken from a Jerry Thompson pinup calendar from 1954 which was my reference material for the lower images you will see if you are not lazy and scroll down.
It's a poor image, yes I know, quit complaining. It was the only online reference I was able to scare up for you. Squint at it and it looks better. There you go.
Here is a picture of my second time using the airbrush...well, it's a compilation of a few weeks of fits and starts with them (I say 'them' because I broke the first one, the second one I didn't like and I finally ended up finishing off with a brand new brush direct from the Taiwan factory).
It was painted on a wrecked auto hood, and wass only for practice to see if I could use an airbrush, photos taken right after I added some really bad blond hair, also before I redid her face for the 4th time. She was one fugly lil buckerette there for a while. I was able to airbrush contours on her face but not do detail such as eyes, nostril and mouth, so those I did with a traditional hair brush, each eye is half the size of a fat ladybug. I guess it is possible to do detail that minute with an airbrush, but you won't be seeing any from me for a while.
The above picture is more true to the actual color, the hat and shoe are a light lavender, the hood is fire engine red. The next picture darker than the actual image by quite a few shades, the light switch is left so you can use it for scale. The hair is NOT FINISHED, in fact it's not really started, what you see is not there, it is an illusion. I'm getting tips from seasoned veterans of the airbrush war, which should help me immensely, if not all my pinups and animals will be bald, perhaps start a new trend. Bald can be tres sexxxeee!
Some detail of the face. Before you go getting all worked up, that is NOT her boob to the left of her left arm, it is only a glare spot from the flash. Nice try though. PERV.
I am guessing her face is less than an inch high, so cut me some slack on my inability to use an airbrush to paint the entire thing. Dammitall you are a purist, perhaps if you ceased hounding me I could get some practice in. Go away and go put some clothes on for God's sake.
Where is the nudity? Well, I'm not one of those who sits at their computer in the buff, though I know a few who are...all men strangely enough, and that is terrain I refuse to explore, thus preserving my innocence and our friendship. I wonder how an anonymous poll would turn out on that subject? Do I reallllly want to know? No. Let's forage ahead, shall we?
The little vintage cowgirl image is taken from a Jerry Thompson pinup calendar from 1954 which was my reference material for the lower images you will see if you are not lazy and scroll down.
It's a poor image, yes I know, quit complaining. It was the only online reference I was able to scare up for you. Squint at it and it looks better. There you go.
Here is a picture of my second time using the airbrush...well, it's a compilation of a few weeks of fits and starts with them (I say 'them' because I broke the first one, the second one I didn't like and I finally ended up finishing off with a brand new brush direct from the Taiwan factory).
It was painted on a wrecked auto hood, and wass only for practice to see if I could use an airbrush, photos taken right after I added some really bad blond hair, also before I redid her face for the 4th time. She was one fugly lil buckerette there for a while. I was able to airbrush contours on her face but not do detail such as eyes, nostril and mouth, so those I did with a traditional hair brush, each eye is half the size of a fat ladybug. I guess it is possible to do detail that minute with an airbrush, but you won't be seeing any from me for a while.
The above picture is more true to the actual color, the hat and shoe are a light lavender, the hood is fire engine red. The next picture darker than the actual image by quite a few shades, the light switch is left so you can use it for scale. The hair is NOT FINISHED, in fact it's not really started, what you see is not there, it is an illusion. I'm getting tips from seasoned veterans of the airbrush war, which should help me immensely, if not all my pinups and animals will be bald, perhaps start a new trend. Bald can be tres sexxxeee!
Some detail of the face. Before you go getting all worked up, that is NOT her boob to the left of her left arm, it is only a glare spot from the flash. Nice try though. PERV.
I am guessing her face is less than an inch high, so cut me some slack on my inability to use an airbrush to paint the entire thing. Dammitall you are a purist, perhaps if you ceased hounding me I could get some practice in. Go away and go put some clothes on for God's sake.
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Back In The Day...
I think it was February 2002 I saw Jimmie Johnson when I lived in Daytona Beach, I had just moved there a few months previous and thought this was a common occurence, I suppose, perhaps not, it's my only defense. Lowe's had him set up outside their Ormond Beach (little town at the north end of Daytona) store on Grenada Blvd. with his race car. I was with my new boyfriend's mom, so I couldn't check Jimmie out without her seeing me and OMG I AM I EVER KICKING MYSELF NOW!!! What a colossal dumbass I can be. Jimmie was self consciously standing around in his driving gear, with a few people walking up asking him questions. I was more interested in the car if you can believe that, it was the first up close encounter I had with a NASCAR vehicle, so I was smitten though I didn't break stride on our way to the store. What stands out to this day is that it had pink lug nuts. Geeeeehawd I am such a doofus.
Yeah, I'm friggen loony, great cars have always turned my head, since I was a wee tot. Gorgeous men have always done the same, and Jimmie is one of the rare one's I would call wildly handsome, I'd have taken him AND his car! Hindsight being what it is, I'd have scooped the then-single Mr. Johnson up and carried him to my lair, boyfriend, boyfriend's mom or no. Brian (the 'then' boyfriend, now ex) was always terrified I was going to run off with Dale Jr.
anyway, I might just as well have added Jimmie to my harem. I could have collected NASCAR drivers for a hobby...and I just love that picture of Tony with his crooked smile, cracks me up. He's a cutie, but doesn't he own monkeys or something?
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
One Good Thing About Winter
is this: I spend way too much time on the computer, so I run across cool sites like this one.
http://www.flashpuzzlezone.com/jigsaw/people/sports/
Check out the warp feature on the racer pix, I mutated Gordo into a gnome, poor chap, I hope his bride doesn't mind too awfully much.
Hmm.....it's 9 p.m., I want to be out walking but it's raining and I'm not waterproof. Be cool if we had oil spigots like ducks do-we could smear ourselves in grease so water would bead up or roll off of us like a Rain-Ex'd windshield, the grease would also insulate us from cold just as the Indians use to slather on bear grease in the winter to stay warm. Yes, they really did, and I'll wager time spent in the wigwam near the heat of a blazing fire would curl the nose hair of lesser individuals, especially when winter chose to drag on for a few extra weeks. Having built in oil spouts would make the chill of winter more tolerable, however, those long winter nights would most likely be spent scrubbing the resulting tub scum and double washing the grease spots off the laundry rather than curled up next to the fireplace sipping hot chocolate (with real marshmallows, big ones if they will fit in the cup, not those little dust specks that come premixed in some hot cocoa mixes) with our sweeties.
Ok, as of this writing I have no sweetie, though fetching one is on my to do list. There's this handsome chap who's caught my eye of late, they call him Kid Rock. Mysterious, no? Just for the record, the 'real' Kid Rock is terribly unattractive to me, there is no physical resemblance between the two or this vast stretch of blog sideroad would have been a dead end. They call 'my' guy Kid Rock because he usually dates drop-dead-gorgeous women. Where he unearths them in this god forsaken wench wasteland is anyones guess, as we are a homely lot here on the frontier, sturdy as Russian field hands. He and I have covertly stared at each other from across a crowded room on two different evenings. Alas, my vanity is in cahoots with what passes in my world as distance eyesight which makes it difficult to know if he is as hot as I seem to think he is, as I stubbornly refuse to wear glasses and can't find my carloads of disposable contact lenses misplaced in my move from Daytona. My sister assures me he is 'fricken HOT', though she is a compulsive liar so expecting her to utter anything remotely resembling the truth is sheer lunacy. I did get within a few inches of Mr. Rock once; we were playing pool on separate tables, but I forgot to pay attention so missed checking him out when he said something to me. I was concentrating on a shot and he was in my way, so I was distracted! Quit shaking your head at my blunder, and yes, I know you mentally called me a dumbass, I'm psychic you know, and distinctly heard you thinking it. I'm told he has a girlfriend, so there. I also heard he is carrying on an affair with a married woman, although I heard it from my sister who's not the greatest source of truth, as I've just told you, and sad to say, when she isn't lying she mucks up insignificant little things like who did what, or sequences of events, hurling them about with little regard for where they land or who trips over them, a superb reason not to believe gossip. Instead of stomping about in isolated mountain forests, she should be churning out fiction, capitalizing on her mischief and overdrawn memory banks.
No, I am NOT shy, not at all. That is NOT why I looked away when Kid Rock talked to me, why are you badgering me? No, that isn't it at all. It IS NOT! Ok, it is. I'm shy. Curses. How did you manage to drag that out of me, anyway? I'll have to be careful around you, you're a wily one, I can see that now.
Ahhh, daaaamn it all, I'm restless and bored, such a horrid place to be-lucky for me I have the ability to sometimes entertain myself with very little. Let's see here...oh, did I tell you I'm into psychology? Yes, I am sure I did somewhere here, you just didn't pay attention. For instance, I am mighty fond of the Keirsey book, "Please Understand Me II". Mr. Keirsey's first book on the subject, "Please Understand Me" was splendid of course but a sickly little ghost of his sequel. Mr. Keirsey one day apparently decided to quit fooling around and apply himself so he burst forth with a second edition where he finally gave it up, sharing the real meat and potatoes of personalities he'd been hoarding for himself all those years. That, or he is a slacker like me (awwww, that is SO CUTE of him!) and in an apparent fervor of condensed inspiration whipped up some profound insights into human nature.
Here, this is a site where you can do a little questionnaire to see what sort you are. PLEASE READ THE INSTRUCTIONS BEFORE TAKING THE TEST. They are brief but important; the test is pitifully simple to do so those of you with test anxiety, relax, pretend you get a million dollars when you are finished and see what gusto can be attained by imaginary money, which is a lesson in itself.
http://www.okcupid.com/tests/take?testid=16567335035599898597
Yes, yes, you already know who you are, I fully realize this, but it's so fun to show you that you aren't as individualized as you like to think, there are only 4 main types, Artisans, Guardians, Idealists and Rationals. Run along and play now... when you get done come back here and report to me what your type is, and if you think it is correct...why are you still here? I know you won't be able to resist the urge to peek at the type descriptions you can find by pecking at the keyboard and entering your 4 letter character into a search engine. I'm an ESTP, with brief interludes into the darker side of ISTP, but mainly I'm an E/I-STP, which if you read the descriptions explains a lot. You would see that I really AM quite sane, and that there are truckloads of others just like me roaming freely about the streets. Try to have a sound night's sleep with that information, will you. What are you still doing here? Scurry off now and take the damn test.
Ah, you've returned, the conquering hero. Interesting, wasn't it. I have the Keirsey book "Please Understand Me II" where he goes into great detail on each type, well worth the $15 I paid for it, even if the title is really wussy, what with that pleading undertone, but there you are. As with Betty McDonald's book "The Egg and I"-both works of genius once you pull back the whimpering coverlets, the titles of each are profound miscarriages of great literature.
On the brighter side of things, I would love to find out what each NASCAR driver's type is. If Keirsey is correct, many racer sorts are ESTP/ISTP's like myself. I always wanted to be a jet pilot or race car driver (or a mercenary, but that is a subject for another day), so either I'm stark raving mad or Keirsey is spot on (for the record I prefer the latter). It would be fun to get the personality breakdown for all drivers, as I'd like to compare success/skill/patience/forethought/aggression and such things per their records along with what that type is supposed to be acting like. Hurl a chartful (I just invented that word by the way) of Clance's Neptune, Jupiter, Mars and other assorted planetary monoliths on that seething heap and things would be quite entertaining! My guess is the majority of drivers are Guardian/Artisan, not just because they comprise roughly 80% of the population. Guardians are security minded so they will be the safe drivers, cautious and steady, making it to the checkered flag in whichever place, the turtles of life. The Artisans are the impulsive risk takers, the fly by the seat of their pants sorts, pushing skill and equipment to the max, who are in a hurry to get where they are going, the hares of this world. When they make it to the finish line, they are often ahead of the pack, though usually beat up and battered from their close shaves and aggressive frolic, like a tangled ball of playful puppies.
Lead, follow or get out of the way was my favorite saying since the first time I heard it, I am an Artisan through and through.
http://www.flashpuzzlezone.com/jigsaw/people/sports/
Check out the warp feature on the racer pix, I mutated Gordo into a gnome, poor chap, I hope his bride doesn't mind too awfully much.
Hmm.....it's 9 p.m., I want to be out walking but it's raining and I'm not waterproof. Be cool if we had oil spigots like ducks do-we could smear ourselves in grease so water would bead up or roll off of us like a Rain-Ex'd windshield, the grease would also insulate us from cold just as the Indians use to slather on bear grease in the winter to stay warm. Yes, they really did, and I'll wager time spent in the wigwam near the heat of a blazing fire would curl the nose hair of lesser individuals, especially when winter chose to drag on for a few extra weeks. Having built in oil spouts would make the chill of winter more tolerable, however, those long winter nights would most likely be spent scrubbing the resulting tub scum and double washing the grease spots off the laundry rather than curled up next to the fireplace sipping hot chocolate (with real marshmallows, big ones if they will fit in the cup, not those little dust specks that come premixed in some hot cocoa mixes) with our sweeties.
Ok, as of this writing I have no sweetie, though fetching one is on my to do list. There's this handsome chap who's caught my eye of late, they call him Kid Rock. Mysterious, no? Just for the record, the 'real' Kid Rock is terribly unattractive to me, there is no physical resemblance between the two or this vast stretch of blog sideroad would have been a dead end. They call 'my' guy Kid Rock because he usually dates drop-dead-gorgeous women. Where he unearths them in this god forsaken wench wasteland is anyones guess, as we are a homely lot here on the frontier, sturdy as Russian field hands. He and I have covertly stared at each other from across a crowded room on two different evenings. Alas, my vanity is in cahoots with what passes in my world as distance eyesight which makes it difficult to know if he is as hot as I seem to think he is, as I stubbornly refuse to wear glasses and can't find my carloads of disposable contact lenses misplaced in my move from Daytona. My sister assures me he is 'fricken HOT', though she is a compulsive liar so expecting her to utter anything remotely resembling the truth is sheer lunacy. I did get within a few inches of Mr. Rock once; we were playing pool on separate tables, but I forgot to pay attention so missed checking him out when he said something to me. I was concentrating on a shot and he was in my way, so I was distracted! Quit shaking your head at my blunder, and yes, I know you mentally called me a dumbass, I'm psychic you know, and distinctly heard you thinking it. I'm told he has a girlfriend, so there. I also heard he is carrying on an affair with a married woman, although I heard it from my sister who's not the greatest source of truth, as I've just told you, and sad to say, when she isn't lying she mucks up insignificant little things like who did what, or sequences of events, hurling them about with little regard for where they land or who trips over them, a superb reason not to believe gossip. Instead of stomping about in isolated mountain forests, she should be churning out fiction, capitalizing on her mischief and overdrawn memory banks.
No, I am NOT shy, not at all. That is NOT why I looked away when Kid Rock talked to me, why are you badgering me? No, that isn't it at all. It IS NOT! Ok, it is. I'm shy. Curses. How did you manage to drag that out of me, anyway? I'll have to be careful around you, you're a wily one, I can see that now.
Ahhh, daaaamn it all, I'm restless and bored, such a horrid place to be-lucky for me I have the ability to sometimes entertain myself with very little. Let's see here...oh, did I tell you I'm into psychology? Yes, I am sure I did somewhere here, you just didn't pay attention. For instance, I am mighty fond of the Keirsey book, "Please Understand Me II". Mr. Keirsey's first book on the subject, "Please Understand Me" was splendid of course but a sickly little ghost of his sequel. Mr. Keirsey one day apparently decided to quit fooling around and apply himself so he burst forth with a second edition where he finally gave it up, sharing the real meat and potatoes of personalities he'd been hoarding for himself all those years. That, or he is a slacker like me (awwww, that is SO CUTE of him!) and in an apparent fervor of condensed inspiration whipped up some profound insights into human nature.
Here, this is a site where you can do a little questionnaire to see what sort you are. PLEASE READ THE INSTRUCTIONS BEFORE TAKING THE TEST. They are brief but important; the test is pitifully simple to do so those of you with test anxiety, relax, pretend you get a million dollars when you are finished and see what gusto can be attained by imaginary money, which is a lesson in itself.
http://www.okcupid.com/tests/take?testid=16567335035599898597
Yes, yes, you already know who you are, I fully realize this, but it's so fun to show you that you aren't as individualized as you like to think, there are only 4 main types, Artisans, Guardians, Idealists and Rationals. Run along and play now... when you get done come back here and report to me what your type is, and if you think it is correct...why are you still here? I know you won't be able to resist the urge to peek at the type descriptions you can find by pecking at the keyboard and entering your 4 letter character into a search engine. I'm an ESTP, with brief interludes into the darker side of ISTP, but mainly I'm an E/I-STP, which if you read the descriptions explains a lot. You would see that I really AM quite sane, and that there are truckloads of others just like me roaming freely about the streets. Try to have a sound night's sleep with that information, will you. What are you still doing here? Scurry off now and take the damn test.
Ah, you've returned, the conquering hero. Interesting, wasn't it. I have the Keirsey book "Please Understand Me II" where he goes into great detail on each type, well worth the $15 I paid for it, even if the title is really wussy, what with that pleading undertone, but there you are. As with Betty McDonald's book "The Egg and I"-both works of genius once you pull back the whimpering coverlets, the titles of each are profound miscarriages of great literature.
On the brighter side of things, I would love to find out what each NASCAR driver's type is. If Keirsey is correct, many racer sorts are ESTP/ISTP's like myself. I always wanted to be a jet pilot or race car driver (or a mercenary, but that is a subject for another day), so either I'm stark raving mad or Keirsey is spot on (for the record I prefer the latter). It would be fun to get the personality breakdown for all drivers, as I'd like to compare success/skill/patience/forethought/aggression and such things per their records along with what that type is supposed to be acting like. Hurl a chartful (I just invented that word by the way) of Clance's Neptune, Jupiter, Mars and other assorted planetary monoliths on that seething heap and things would be quite entertaining! My guess is the majority of drivers are Guardian/Artisan, not just because they comprise roughly 80% of the population. Guardians are security minded so they will be the safe drivers, cautious and steady, making it to the checkered flag in whichever place, the turtles of life. The Artisans are the impulsive risk takers, the fly by the seat of their pants sorts, pushing skill and equipment to the max, who are in a hurry to get where they are going, the hares of this world. When they make it to the finish line, they are often ahead of the pack, though usually beat up and battered from their close shaves and aggressive frolic, like a tangled ball of playful puppies.
Lead, follow or get out of the way was my favorite saying since the first time I heard it, I am an Artisan through and through.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Evil Procrastinator
Yep, I should be out in the frigid shop wielding my ice cold airbrush with unbridled passion and deep devotion, but no, I am in here pecking away on my laptop, comfortably ensconced upon my 4 poster bed where it is warm and cozy, all so YOU dear reader may fulfill your voyeuristic urges. I'm afraid I have an inner big tease that demands I leave you here while I scamper off and do something constructive for a while.
Sunday, November 12, 2006
She Made Me Do This!
Clance did it, she really, really did. I never thought I'd have a blog, I mean, I've had a myspace account since January and only accessed it maybe 6 times because I kept forgetting my password and I could never keep a diary anyway because I'm just too damn lazy. Forgetful & Lazy=a great condensed bio. Ok, ok, I'm lying. I'm not really lazy, in fact I'm a little hyper if my mind isn't engaged in some fleeting fancy. So, I'm IM'ing with Clance from Church of the Great Oval, and she says, why not start a blog? My impulsive black heart said 'hey...why not?' What's a blog I'm wondering...oh heck, it's what Clance does! Yeah, yeah, I know, this isn't "like Clance's" blog, that girl is TALENTED, jeeeeeze. I'm merely a garden variety paint juggler, not an author, cut me some serious slack, ok??? I'll just be me here, yapping incessantly, privately wondering why you are still here reading the ramblings of a complete stranger. This could prove to be a bizarre little trip so buckle your Hanz device, slap on that helmet and lets hit da track!
Guess I should give you some background on me...I'm single in case any of my favorite NASCAR boys took a wrong turn at the track and ended up here, lost, alone and in need of...well, nevermind. I've always loved racing, as a little kid I had a bagful of matchbox cars I staged races with, on oval tracks or mountain hairpin corners I'd carved out of a dirt bank in the back yard. I watched NASCAR on tv just to see the cars go fast, the concept of tire and fuel strategy was far beyond me, I just liked fast cars. Then I discovered boys, so I perfected my love of fast cars to include fast men much to the dismay of my parents.
Over the years I went to drag races, dirt track races, hydroplane races and the like, the sound of the engines made my heart race and my adrenaline surge in a way Ted Bundy could only dream of. Somehow I landed for a brief time in Bakersfield, California. It was there in Feb. 2001 that I was watching the afternoon news when the reports of Dale Earnhardt's death at Daytona International Speedway was announced. I remember exactly where I was sitting, the way the news made my skin prickle and how really sad I was even though I had not been keeping up with anything NASCAR for years. I remember seeing Kevin Harvick for the first time, he was being interviewed about his thoughts on the passing of D.E. and this is when I discovered Bakersfield was home to Harvick. Little did I know that within 9 months I would be living in the same city #3 had raced his last lap, and a few years later dating a man who met Dale Earnhardt on that last day of his life.
There are a lot of parallels that keep dragging me back to NASCAR, it's like it's fate or sumpthin'...
Guess I should give you some background on me...I'm single in case any of my favorite NASCAR boys took a wrong turn at the track and ended up here, lost, alone and in need of...well, nevermind. I've always loved racing, as a little kid I had a bagful of matchbox cars I staged races with, on oval tracks or mountain hairpin corners I'd carved out of a dirt bank in the back yard. I watched NASCAR on tv just to see the cars go fast, the concept of tire and fuel strategy was far beyond me, I just liked fast cars. Then I discovered boys, so I perfected my love of fast cars to include fast men much to the dismay of my parents.
Over the years I went to drag races, dirt track races, hydroplane races and the like, the sound of the engines made my heart race and my adrenaline surge in a way Ted Bundy could only dream of. Somehow I landed for a brief time in Bakersfield, California. It was there in Feb. 2001 that I was watching the afternoon news when the reports of Dale Earnhardt's death at Daytona International Speedway was announced. I remember exactly where I was sitting, the way the news made my skin prickle and how really sad I was even though I had not been keeping up with anything NASCAR for years. I remember seeing Kevin Harvick for the first time, he was being interviewed about his thoughts on the passing of D.E. and this is when I discovered Bakersfield was home to Harvick. Little did I know that within 9 months I would be living in the same city #3 had raced his last lap, and a few years later dating a man who met Dale Earnhardt on that last day of his life.
There are a lot of parallels that keep dragging me back to NASCAR, it's like it's fate or sumpthin'...
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