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That drawing is – without a doubt – the neatest thing I’ve seen in a looong time!

Bon Voyage, Stoaty!

*Now I gotta go find Elijah in New Bedford for the future news.*

Thankee kindly, McGoo. I mashed up an old drawing of mine with an old drawing of Leonardo’s. Life is easy when you steal stuff.

I don’t leave for a few hours yet. That’s the up part of the red eye: I leave at a civilized hour. Which is good, because I left the transformer for my Thinkpad in the office and have already been there and back this morning.

Indeed somebody WAS doing their homework on my blog. I’m keeping it up for cool measure. Not good measure, but cool measure.

Somebody’s trying to access my account now. I received 30 email messages regarding password resetting on Monday. That, coupled with my personal information, has made me kind of worried. Suggestions? I’ve already changed all of my passwords to nearly impossible to get even if you know them.

Well, the way I figure it, Leonardo would approve. Isn’t the flying stoat the peak – the absolute pinnacle – of evolutionary design! Like the great white shark, or a single-malt scotch with spring-water ice – there simply is no room for improvement.

Interesting, Chris. Somebody’s definitely knocking on your door, but if you’re comfy with your password, that’s not such a big deal. Bet it’s a friend, messing with you. Though I always wince when I see somebody posting with their own full name (which I assume that is). On the other hand, if Michelle Malkin isn’t afraid, I’m probably just being a pussy.

I almost left a shopping list in my own comments the other day, but I stuck it in an unposted post instead.

Shouldn’t that be Airweasel as opposed to Aeroweasel?
Is it Gatwick or Heathrow that the Enviro-weenies don’t want expanded? If it’s Gatwick, and you see any, do me a favour and yell, ‘Hey, hippies – fuck the environment!’ This’ll shock the bastards, what with their quixotic message/agenda being given unchallenged airtime on and in all of the media. And the American, and more specifically Southern (I’m assuming; you’re from Tennessee, right?) accent will make them shit in their pants with indignation.

To Uncle B’s disappointment, I only have a Southern accent when I’m very drunk or very angry. I’m beginning to suspect that’s why he pours booze down my throat and makes me watch An Inconvenient Truth.

And I was thinking of John Hartford’s Steam Powered Aereo Plane, a reference that I expected absolutely no-one to get. But I made it anyway. Because it’s Christmas and that’s what I wanted!

Bon Voyage Weasel!

Remember that in 1607 the first British settlement was founded at Jamestown in Virginia. There’s something fitting about the fact that exactly 400 years later, at Christmas-time, you’ve elected to complete the circuit by embarking for England on the very day that that Captain “John Smith” (See? He used a psuedonym too!)and the rest of the settlers set sail for America.

Here is the relevant excerpt from “Smith’s” blog in 1607
http://www.nationalcenter.org/SettlementofJamestown.html

On the 19 of December, 1606, we set sail from Blackwall… The rest of his blog is pretty much about C++ and stuff like that.

In any case, we wish you the safest of journey’s, and the happiest of holidays, and the best Englishing-Speaking driver in all Gatewick!

Finally:
A Steam-powered Weasel DaVinci Aeroflyer is the best trip, as long as the it’s been fueled with piss and vinegar (OK, Valu-rite Vodka works in a pinch).

Have a safe trip Weasel.

Safe travels Stoaty. Watch your muffin.

Noooo… Weasel has more sense than to travel with BA, Pupster 🙂

Left over muffin, indeed!

Hmm… time to put some champagne on ice and thaw-out a brace of runny-babbit arses.

Add a few ampules of cat smack to that champagne and you’ve got your self the ingredients – including the sleep deprivation/jetlag – for quite a shindig.

Best of luck. Hope you and Uncle B have a wonderful time.

And now that you have the InterTubes at your spacious manor, you’ll have no choice but to stay in touch with us. Every day. On the hour.

Happy flapping! Oh, and I tried garlic powder on my chedder cheese toast yesterday. OMG that was good! I don’t know why it’s never occured to me to do that before, but now I’ll do it all the time. 🙂

Badger –

Have a good one, Sir! I know she will, because her happiness has kinda been quietly dripping and dribbling all over for a while.

Stupid Not Free Logan wifi. I put a buck in the machine to wish you all…no, wait that’s ME. Safe journey to ME. I’ll have time later to wish you all a merry etcetera.

Almost came to grief right off the bat. They won’t let me reserve a cab because it’s such a short hop to the bus station, but I’ve never had a problem. So I called an hour before my bus was supposed to leave, and they told me there was a three hour wait for a cab!

So I started to make that high-pitched, keening stoaty wail that breaks hearts and shatters eardrums, and they took pity on me and sent me a driver.

So I go from here to Philadelphia and thence to Jolly Olde. It’s going to be a long day. I’ll be there…twelve hours from now.

Oh, well…champagne breakfast, was that, B?

Champagne and kippers! And Kidneys! And French-toasted Toad-in-the-the-Hole and Frosted-Bangers-and-Mash!

Oh, the possible breakfast delights of Jolly Old England!

A treat awaits you Weasel, when the cat opiates wear off!

For the record, I want it recorded that I’m not the one who was talking about “thawed-out runny-babbit arses” for breakfast.

No spotted dick?

Can’t imagine why anyone thinks a weasel eats anything else!

Badger – you’re gonna have to explain to Mi’Lady very, very carefully how Musli’s comment inadvertently got in there ahead of you without your knowledge, approval, or consent.

LOL!

Oh, dear. Oh, dearie, dearie me….

I wonder how deep a hole I can dig before she gets here… ?

Incidentally, for anyone needing to track aeroweasels (or most other kinds of flying pest), the following is fun: http://www.flightview.com/

Yay! Have fun, Weas.

Funny you mention your accent coming out when you’re angry. I had an extremely thick East Texas accent as a kid (thanks to Mom), but now it comes out only when I’m really nervous. Never been drunk, so I dunno about that. When I’m angry, all accent disappears and my voice becomes very hard and clipped.

(I need to look in the mirror next time I’m royally pissed off to see if my lips go all thin like my mom’s.)

I also have a few mistakes I make in speech due to being deaf (the most obvious is that I pronounce words like “gulf” way in the back of my throat instead of the front of my mouth), but not many, and they all disappear when I am speaking publicly. Convenient, that.

Ooooh, she’ll be taking off soon.

What? You got a flight number or sumpin, Musli? Or is it one of those “you folks on the East Coast know all the flights” kind of things?

The important thing is did she get a drink yet? She’ll be needing one or more after all that hustle and bustle and taxi horseshit and stuff.

Mrs. Peel – you’ve never been drunk?

Hmmm…..

Ever got zonked on cat opiates?

Nope. With my addiction to sugar, I figure it’s best for me to stay far away from the heavy stuff.

I hear ya, Mrs. P. Pick your vice. Given a choice, I’ll usually go for the sweets, too.

Fly away, Weasel. Fly away.

When I get angry, I get even more pedantic than I am already, and speak in a low monotone. I guess it’s some sort of instinctual “bore the enemy into walking away” defense mechanism. It hasn’t proven to be very useful; dunno how it made it through eons of natural selection.

When I get drunk, on the other hand, I get very happy, and share my humor with one and all. Unfortunately, my idea of humor is biting sarcasm.

Wanna see my scars?

I can be quite the nosy, inquisitive person. ‘Nuff said. (And I’m in the Midwest, so the East Coast thing wouldn’t apply.)

My vice, other than books, used to be sweets. But with my new insulin-carb ratio regimen, I’m scared to eat sweets. Most sweets (especially South Asian sweets) are not as well-labelled nutrition-wise as regular foods. I need to know the number of carbs before I inject insulin, and I have to inject before beginning my meal…which makes eating desserts difficult, especially in restaurants. (I can guesstimate the carb content of the food based on the standard portion sizes of various foods, such as bread, rice, et cetera, but doing so with desserts is nigh impossible.) I love me my sweets, but this is perhaps a good thing in the long run.

Confession time: on online debates, sometimes when I become frustrated, my defense mechanism is a long rant-lecture in the hope that somewhere, somehow a point may have been made by me. Or it will bore the person or drive him away. So I win by default. In a way.

Of course, when I write a rant-lecture out of desperation and when out of my usual pedantry, is difficult to tell.

I quit trying to teach people a valuable lesson, one they wouldn’t soon forget, long ago. My motto since then has been RAH’s timeless advice: “Never try to teach a pig to sing. It wastes your time, and annoys the pig.”

Sorry about your diabetes thing, Musiloon (did I guess right?)

A buddy of mine lost some of his foot to that; I told him he could now tell the ladies “hell, babe, I’m so big they had to cut of half a foot.”

He didn’t laugh, and I felt like a complete asshole–not an unfamiliar feeling, unfortunately for me.

I’ve felt like an asshole fairly often, too, jw. Hmm. I wonder if we feel like the same one, or different ones? Or is there only one – a kind of a Platonic Universal “asshole” ideal? I’ll have to take time to consider that, someday.

You picked one of my favorite RAH keepers. Ah – hell, I like ’em all. I’ve got a file on Lazarus Long’s Notebook around here somewhere.

I assume Stoaty’s arrived and is now in the loving arms of Jolly Olde – and Badger, of course. I bet they’re packing in a champaign breakfast – or lunch, or din-din, or whatever meal it is right now.

“Platonic Universal Asshole.” I like the thought, McGoo, but I prefer to be my own special asshole when it’s required.

Well, I guess Plato’s Asshole would be the perfect one – the Ideal – from which all others derive.

Nietzsche would have said, “That which does not kill us may still consider us to be assholes.”

And was it Archimedes who said,”Give me a place to stand and I shall moon the earth.”?

Hmmm, when I get angry, I speak very slowly and clearly; with a bit of a purr. I use very subtle sarcasms aimed just slightly over the head of the person who deserves the slap. With an audience, I try to use references by which the audience will clearly recognize the casualness of the slap, but the target may not catch. Sometimes, when impatient, I’m even less subtle.

This morning’s example:

Response to “X”

There is a certain limited list of reasons for which you are not allowed, by law, to discriminate in the selection process. Outside that listing of prohibited reasons, you are allowed to discriminate for any reason that is not entirely arbitrary or capricious. For example you could use stupidity, or the length of time since the applicant last performed the desired duties as reasons not to select someone for a job, without legal consequences.

Additionally, I have a sense of mischief, inherited from my Grandfather. As with other genetically based curses, it seems to have skipped a generation in my father. In any case, this sense of mischief, which I think you’ve all seen displayed here, is the reason for my choice of the name Lokki as my nom de blog. I would like to point out that I deliberately spell it as Lokki rather than the correct Loki . I figure that most people won’t know the difference, and that it will annoy those who DO know the correct spelling. MY sense of humor, now revealed to all.

Finally, as for an accent, I have none – although when house hunting here in Dallas, a real estate agent placed me within 50 miles of my hometown many states away by my non-accent, despite the fact that I haven’t lived there in 30 years. That was revealing, I thought.

So my MIL almost killed my husband two nights ago. He has strepthroat and we don’t have medical insurance so he asked his mom if she could bring him some antibiotics. She buys it in bulk from Mexico in case of bird flu or Y2K. She doesn’t really read Spanish all that well so instead of giving him antibiotics she gave him 250 mg (in five 50mg pills) of a blood pressure medication. He was about to take a second dose, when something told him it’s not normal to take 5 of any one pill and decided to query the Internet before hand. It was a miracle he didn’t go into cardiac arrest with the first dose. He would have been dead for sure with the second. So we spent 1,000 bucks and a night in the ER. Yippee! Horray for the Internet, Poison Control, our wonderful emergency medical system, and that little voice that said “stop, don’t take those pills.”

In Urdu, loki/lawki means “calabash” or “bottle gourd” (or, as I’ve seen in some places, “marrow” for some reason). There’s a popular dish called loki ka halwah (halwah made from loki or calabash). Very yum.

So, I think of loki ka halwah about 75% of the times I see your nick, Lokki.

75% of the time I see Lokki’s nic I wonder if Mrs. Lokki calls him Rokki.

So, I think of loki ka halwah about 75% of the times I see your nick, Lokki

That pleases me very much for some reason I can’t quite put my finger on, Muslihoon….

75% of the time I see Lokki’s nic I wonder if Mrs. Lokki calls him Rokki.

Actually the answer to that would be “Yes”. Japanese people not only can’t distingush between “R” or “L” when they speak, they can’t hear the distinction. I have the same problem with some sounds in Japanese – for example, I can’t hear or say “Tsu” or “SU” differently. So Tsuki(the moon) and suki (to love).

This little problem would no doubt cause great difficulties in Steamboat’s love life, for example, as he might confuse the noun “Moon” with the verb “Moon” and not only not get the kiss, but get arrested.

Dawn – you and husband are very, very lucky; noting that luck happens more often to those who prepare themselves (by researching in this case). I hope that he’ll be fine by Christmas!

Sorry to read about that, Dawn. I’m glad he’s smart and listens to the still small voice!

🙂

Dawn, never take medicine not prescribed in your name. I’m glad your husband double-checked.

And in future, Walmart has antibiotics for $4. You may want to check in local grocery stores too as some have started programs for free or nearly free drugs – antibiotics being one of them. (Schnucks, is one here in MO)

Overall, a check at a clinic or even a regular Dr., along with the cost of meds, shouldn’t have cost you more than $50 – $60, tops (clinics most likely less). Most people really don’t need insurance for simple, but need to take care of, stuff and talking to a doctor about any hardship will sometimes get you a more affordable initial office visit. After that, they won’t need to see you and can just call something in.

Our family doctor, whom we love, charges us $95 for an office visit. It’s not that we can’t afford it – it’s that we are cheap. People in this family have to be in shock or bleeding to death before we will shell out money for medicine. My husband’s parents are covering the cost of the ER visit.
I have had surgery in Mexico to save a few grand.

And don’t get me started on why cash paying customers pay more than people who have insurance or who are on welfare -GRRRRRRR!!!!!

Shoot, if I didn’t take medicine not prescribed for me, I’d’ve had no social life at all in High School.

I went without insurance for a few years in the 90s. An office visit was $65. A tetanus vaccine was $35. Complete blood workup, $110. On the whole, I spent far less for routine health care than I did for car maintenance.

We’ve been taught for so long that health care is HELLA unaffordable that we’ve forgotten it’s a lie. Getting hit by a bus or a malignancy is unaffordable. Day to day healthcare is not.

Dawn, I’ve had people tell me cash payers pay less, and scold me that they’ve subsidized my little adventure. I wonder what the truth is…

Glad to see you made it safely, Ma’am!

I was told by an office person at my doctor’s office that those that pay cash, get charged the lesser rate. Not as much paperwork involved.
A neighbor has catastophic insurance, so pays cash for everything else, including her daughter’s asthma. Her charges are also not as much.
I was also told if you pay cash after a hospital visit, you get a 30% discount.
Maybe it is time to have a heart to heart with your doctor and work something out with him.
Problem with welfare is that 60% of doctors will not see medicaid patients because the government underpays the actual cost to the doctor. Once they go to the hospital – whether it is to the ER for a cold or worse – they can’t get turned away. The costs go up for everyone because the hospitals will write off their care to you and me. (My sister, who just had an ER visit, could have made payments over months, but for some reason, the hospital wrote it off and she doesn’t have to pay.)

And if that fails, check out the local clinics.

Well see, we live in rural Arizona – LOTS of welfare, LOTS of illegals. It is the cash payers who subsidize those who won’t pay here.

I’m back – in case anyone noticed I was gone.

“This little problem would no doubt cause great difficulties in Steamboat’s love life, for example, as he might confuse the noun “Moon” with the verb “Moon” and not only not get the kiss, but get arrested.”

Lokki! That explains a extraordinarily sordid and unfortunate incident that occurred to me years ago! Oh, wow. I really owe that visiting Japaneses family an apology.