New Government Robbery Plan

More good news from the ‘Tax and Spenders’ Bandits. Up in Oregon, they’re working on a pay per mile tax on vehicles since with the new systems they’ll be able to calculate the theft with very little difficulty. They aren’t the only ones. Other states have this blatant robbery in mind too. Of course they’ll tie it into climate, foreign oil, blah, blah… blah. What it really means is the government dictated better fuel mileage, cleaner cars, and a host of gadgets – all of which add thousands to the cost of our vehicles all for our own good. When they get what they want, they notice the already exorbitant gas tax pot is leaking due to the improvements. Rather than cutting spending, government gnomes have to manufacture new ways to steal what they do not earn. This pay per mile theft will not only bump up the individual driver’s direct rate, it will raise every single cost to us of goods and services – food, durable goods, and delivery fees which all get passed on legitimately to the consumer. It makes me wonder how far they can go before people say no way, no how, quit spending! The addiction to entitlement programs and politicians using them to buy votes with our sweat and blood is at critical mass.

Funny First Underwater Video Clip Trip

Because of many weekends since spring taken up with family and even writing research, my scuba diving season got off to a really late start. Yesterday was the day I would get to try out my underwater video casing. It’s a cheap, slick casing for a lot of different regular cameras such as my old Nikon L18. Anyway, I packed up my dive equipment, and off I went with St. Joyce to Pacific Grove for a video dive off Otter’s Point. Some of you might remember Otter’s Point was the favorite spot for my assassin, Nick, in my still in final edits at Wild Child Publishing – COLD BLOODED. There, I got the promo in one more time. Of course I’ll have passed on by the time it gets a publishing date but you can’t have everything.

So, we drive down through beautiful overcast weather with very little traffic, had breakfast at a neat little café in Pacific Grove, and then headed to Otter’s Point. The water was a bit choppy, but this is only a trial run for my underwater video excursion, so I’m pumped anyway, even if the visibility might not be good. I begin unloading my equipment when it suddenly becomes apparent I left home without my regulator (the breathing apparatus). St. Joyce asks me what’s wrong because my rapid equipment setup has ground to a halt with me staring out at the ocean.

“I forgot my regulator.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep. I know exactly where it is – our garage.”

St. Joyce chuckles. “What’re you going to do?”

“Hold my breath until I run out of video.”

St. Joyce laughs. “How about we just go up to the Bamboo Reef on Lighthouse Avenue and you can rent one.”

Excellent idea. The Bamboo Reef Dive Shop is the best for tank fills, or any replacement equipment, or for idiots who go on diving trips without regulators. I repack the GMC and up to Lighthouse Avenue we go. I run inside and find a familiar face – an older gentleman I recognize from many times refilling my tanks at his shop over the decades. I’m just another diver to him, but he recognizes me in the way I recognize some customers at my auto shop even after years in between meetings. In my case it’s only been since last fall since he’s seen me.

“Do you have a regulator left for rent?” I ask hopefully, because whole dive school classes come down here to the ‘Reef’ and rent out stuff on weekends.

“Sure do.” He smiles and plunks down the clipboard with the info form to fill out. “Forgot the regulator, did we?” It’s not his first rodeo with regulator-less weekend divers.

“I sure did.” I stare down at the sheet realizing I’d run in without my wallet and dive license. It’s against the law to rent any equipment to uncertified divers.

The gentleman is psychic too. “Forgot the wallet, did we?”

Damn, he’s good. “I’ll be right back.” Out to the GMC I run to give St. Joyce another chuckle on how well I’m doing with my Alzheimer’s. Back inside, I begin filling out the sheet while my host checks my credit card, driver’s license, and dive card. He’s getting the giggles looking at my dive card. It’s an ancient plastic NASDS (National Association of Scuba Diving Schools) scuba license marked 9 – 78. His underlings have been the ones to handle my card in the recent past so this is his first personal look over in a while.

“Sorry,” I say. I’m thinking he’s finding it humorous I don’t have a picture ID dive card like everyone does now. “They didn’t put our picture on them back then.”

“You know this organization doesn’t exist anymore and I think Roger Johnson’s dead.”

Roger Johnson is the name of my dive instructor back in 78. His name’s on the card too. I wonder for a moment if Roger did pass on but the ‘Reef’ owner starts laughing so I join in on the merriment. “It’s disrespectful to talk like that about an antique dive card. I’ve been thinking about taking it with me to the next ‘Antique’s Road Show’ for evaluation.”

He gets a laugh out of that one, fills in a couple things, and takes my money after I check out the regulator personally. It’s his insistence so he can make sure I actually do know how to hook it up to a tank and then remove it. Off to Otter’s point once more, and the murky, wildly blurry video down below. The water had gotten a bit more choppy, especially under the surface, but it was fun doing it. I actually turned it on my face for a wave. Afterwards, we sat on St. Joyce’s beach for a while and had dinner at Crabby Joe’s in Fisherman’s Wharf before heading home. I will do better next time with the video.

King Rat Revisited

If you were as overjoyed at Seal Team Six's execution of King Rat as I was, this article is a must read King Rat Details. The details of the raid that killed Osama Bin Laden are all here, including the planning stages and mission problems. It is incredibly well done and engrossing. It also mentions some of the other high value targets taken out by the 'Men in Black' and thousands of these types of missions carried out instead of a handful. These guys are the best there is at what they do, and oh baby, if they have your name on their list you better start making peace with whatever you think of as the hereafter, because you'll be on your way there shortly.   :)

Typical Islamic Outrage

Not that we don’t have our own hardcore thugs here in America inventing new ways to terrorize the populace with Facebook Flash-Mobs and Twitter Riots – but in the Middle East they really know how to waste their own people in nonsensical violent mass killings. A bunch of Pakistani gunmen opened fire on a bus carrying Shia pilgrims, killing eleven Islam's Finest. So, in revenge, a similar group of nitwit Shia burned their own cars and rampaged through the city of Quetta, burning offices. I don’t care who you are in these hellholes, you better have some kind of police band shortwave radio so you can hear about senseless mass murders. When you hear about peaceful Islam religious executions happening anywhere, drop the fireproofing down around your house and head for the hills in your car. These idiots never seem to target their outrage at the perpetrators. They always end up safely burning and killing each other in the dead of night to express their anger. And we’re the great Satan? Yeah… yo’ mamma.

Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary

I received an e-mail today from someone in Kansas with a car problem – not unusual because I get around twenty a day asking car questions. Here’s the unusual part even for an e-mail.

(‘Hi, my car’s stalling. What’s wrong with it?’

MK)

This actually happens quite frequently when a customer drives a vehicle into the shop and asks this. Getting an e-mail from a stranger in Kansas asking it has a humorous side. Most of the people commenting on my vehicle posts on the blog sense they need to at least tell me the year, make, model, and engine size. After writing back asking for basic information and a more detailed description of the symptoms I received this answer:

(‘I don’t give out personal information on the Internet. Just take your best guess.)

Okay, I did get a good laugh reading that this morning, and so did my wife when I read it to her. Funny or not, I had no intention of writing an e-mail book on all the things that could be wrong causing a stalling problem. I wrote back - ‘My best guess is that I guess you ought to ask someone else’.

To which I received this gem:

(‘F$&* YOU! I asked a simple (expletive deleted) question and you blow me off! What kind of (expletive deleted) tech blog is this?!!!’)

It went on and on for a couple paragraphs, the last of which was in all caps. By that time I’m howling in laughter on the couch before work with the laptop in my lap and my wife peering over my shoulder. The e-mail concluded with the person’s first name instead of initials, all in caps still – Mary. My wife nearly choked when she read to the end.

“It’s a woman!” St. Joyce gasped.

“So, what’s the big surprise? I’ve heard you go off worse than that.”

St. Joyce is appalled. “Never! I’ve never…” She stops abruptly because St. Joyce knows I have nearly a photographic memory for past dialogues and events. One look at me already chuckling, eager to refresh her memory, and she shuts down the conversation with a quick shun.

“Don’t even think about it! I have to go to work.”

The only drawback was I had to delete about ten Mary spam slams on my vehicle blogs until Google figured out I had decided Mary was not welcome. They blocked her from the comments sections and all was fine with the world. The event put a smile on my face most of the day, and I’m sure I can figure out a way to bring up a couple of St. Joyce’s more colorful conversational events when I get home.  :)

Princess Alima

I usually just hit the phishing scam button for the Kipkala family, the Zongos, and all the assorted UK lotteries I've supposedly won. I also, like many others, get assorted e-mails from royal family members in Nigeria, the Sudan, and the African continent who all need my help with their inheritance passed down from deceased Kings, Queens, etc. I just had to reprint this e-mail from Princess Alima. The royal family grammar has improved since the last time she wanted to pass on part of her vast inheritance to me. Every time I get one of these I picture some little deformed troll sitting under a bridge with their laptop sending it with the help of a stolen WiFi signal from a nearby Starbucks. Anyway, without further ado, here's Princess Alima. Feel free to contact her if you wish.  :)

HELLO & Greetings to you.

I am writing this letter in confidence believing that if it is the wish of God
for you to help me and my family, God almighty will bless and reward you
abundantly and you would never re-great this.

I am a female student from Burkina Faso University Teachings Hospitals (BUTH)
Burkina Faso , Ouagadougou .  My father died earlier eight months ago
and left I and my younger brother behind. He was a king, which our town citizens titled him over sixteen years ago before his death. I was a princess to him and my mother is not literate enough to know my father's entire wealth.

He left the sum of USD $4.350.000.00US dollars. In a security company, this money was annually paid into my late fathers account from the Gold mining company and Colton processing Company operating in our locality for the compensation of youth and community development in our jurisdiction.I don't know somewhere in abroad to invest the money so that my father's kindred will not take over what belongs to my father and our family because I’m a female according to our African tradition. Now, I urgently need your humble assistance to move this money from the security company to your bank account that is why I felt happy when I saw your  contact because I strongly believe that by the grace of God, you will help me invest this money wisely.

I am ready to pay 20% of the total amount to you if you can help us in this transaction and another 10% interest of annual after Income to you, for handling this transaction for us, which you will strongly have absolute control over. If you can handle this project sincerely and also willing to assist me in lifting this money to your country, kindly reach me.

Please, note that this transaction is 100% risk free and I hope to start the transaction as quick as possible, I will send you my photograph as soon as I hear from you.


Yours sincerely,
Princess Alima
princessalim@voila.fr

San Francisco's Cherished Criminal Class

San Francisco again confirms its place in the annals of idiotic policy thought Idiots Amongst Us. The city law makers are considering making felons a protected class, because sane landlords and employers don’t want ex-felons in their businesses or real estate. Yes, felons are ostracized from regular society, and have been forever. They have to walk a hard path to earn their way back into our lives – and that’s how it should be. As pointed out in the article, these new members of a protected class will immediately make this into a business - going from one employer to another, and one rental to another, looking for love in all the wrong places with an ambulance chasing lawyer by their side. Felons have it rough… well boo hoo! For every crime these scuzzballs were caught and sentenced for there were a hundred they got away with and a string of victims who were never ‘protected’. I wonder if San Francisco’s law makers ever take the city’s law abiding citizens into consideration; but then again, the law abiding citizens of SF keep electing certified loons to represent them. I hope they enjoy their new protected class. I’m sure the rest of the country will get a laugh out of the criminal coddling capital of the West.