Just In Case...

...you don't visit the photoblog where I post pics and commentary for the three bands that I work with, here's a tasty shot using wireless remote flash and some bonus cigarette smoke from the drunk chicks that spiked local sales figures of Michelob Ultra tonight.

Lucky Strikes Again

That crazy cat was sleeping near our driveway, all tired out from hunting and killing this big old rat.

Lucky/Not Lucky

On the way out of the house looking for breakfast I saw enough feathers to make me think of a pillow fight gone bad. Spotting the pretty but dead woodpecker I said "Oh crap!" out loud and within seconds heard the familiar voice of Lucky, one of the many cats who live on our street.

Out of all the kitties around here, this guy is the only one who not only doesn't run away but actually comes up to me for attention.
LOTS of attention, and he never shuts up!

Being a life-long "cat person" I was frustrated for years by the skittish pussies on our street, so after making Lucky's aquaintance I actually bought a can of treats to give my new buddy whenever we crossed paths, and I guess the dead bird was his way of returning the favor in this Thanksgiving season.

You can see the hunter in him.
I was a little bummed that such a pretty woodpecker died on my driveway or porch or sidewalk (feathers are everywhere!) but such is the circle of life.
(Edit: This was a male Golden Fronted Woodpecker, and a real fine example at that. I saw him the day before hanging upside-down from our patio timbers looking for lunch in the form of ants and the bumblebees that live in big holes.)


Here's the funny part:
Around Halloween I found a familiar red cat collar on the driveway behind my car, and brought it inside.
Over a week later I hung out with Lucky for a few minutes and remembering the collar (partially seen in photo #1) fetched it and hooked him back up.
My hope was that his owners would be completely mystified as to how this goofy cat managed to not only find it again but also put it back on by himself!

It was one of those pranks where you don't get to witness the results, but it still gives you a warm feeling of satisfaction and makes for a good story.

Blogger, Your Ass Is Showing

First, the picture:
When I go out in public, I wear pants and shoes and a shirt, minimum.
And should I need to put air in my tires or anything else that requires my hands to be near the ground, I crouch, kneel, sit...whatever gets the job done while retaining a shred of dignity.
An ass covered with a thin layer of shorts isn't dignified, and can start a fight when aimed at you.
I was disgusted.


As for the title of this post:
Blogger's post editor/composer isn't working with my Opera browser, yet again.
I suppose they made some recent "improvements" because that's always the first sign of trouble for those of us in the minority.
No movie upload button, no blockquote button, nor bold, italic, or even 'insert link'.
No compose mode, either.
The title box moves into the body of the post randomly.
Other than that it's just great!
I hate having to use Firefox just to put up a blog post correctly.

I hate MySpace, too.
What a mess!
Can't remember a single time when MySpace actually worked without major problems.
404 errors, having to log-in twice, not staying logged-in even though the 'remember me' box is checked, being sent to MySpace Mobile for no reason, pictures that don't load, audio that only plays 10% of the time, complete browser freeze-ups, pages that take 10 minutes to scroll all the way down (I'll admit, this one is likely due to 3rd party page apps and codemonkey dillholes that throw too much crap onto the page).
But seriously, has anyone EVER gotten through a session at MySpace without something random and stupid happening?

So why do I still use it?
It's part of my job description.
Blogging is better, so I guess I'll shut up about the minor irritations that affect Blogger every few months--at least is isn't 24/365.

Time For a Dozen Beers

Beer is the only way to cope with all the losing going on around here.
First The Spurs vs. Dallas, then...

My main point, America, is that those who don't study history are doomed to repeat it.
And those who don't take real human nature into account when dreaming up "new ideas" and "change" will always be surprised when it doesn't work.
Ronald Reagan proved many things during his years in the White House, and so did Clinton and dos Bushes.
Those lessons (good AND bad) are being ignored, at our peril.

I have read the candidate's words from way before they started running for President.
Either way it wasn't a great choice, but we're well and truly fucked now.

History will repeat itself:
Gas prices will go back up again starting.......right now.
The economy will weaken even more than it has recently because amateurs are in power and the people who have the most to lose are going to play it safe.
Jobless rates will rise.
Our enemies will get stronger.
Terrorists will again hit us on our own soil.
Mark my words--I've been watching this shit since Obama was wearing diapers and a charismatic desire for "change" means nothing.
It's a rough world out there, and now we're the biggest pussies on the block again.


At least it isn't Hillary.
I doubt Obama will play any bullshit games like those that resulted in the Randy Weaver travesty, the Waco mass murder, and the Oklahoma City bombing that was a direct result of them. The Clintons hated/feared guns so much that hundreds of innocent people died and the blood is still on their hands.
Any elected official that fears guns in the hands of honest citizens is not to be trusted. (You take them away from criminals, not good upstanding Americans, stupid).

Read the words of our founding fathers--not the usual stuff, but the books and essays and letters they wrote--when they spoke from the heart and mind. All of that stuff still makes sense today and still works as the single best system of government.


I need another beer...

Some Things I Don't Want To Know

One defining thing about me is that I have an insatiable curiosity, and a true need to solve the puzzles that confront me when out in the world.
When I see something odd, my immediate reaction is to start gathering clues and formulating an explanation that fits them.
I then turn this into a story that's worth a few laughs, more often than not.
If I happen to have a picture, it usually ends up here on Zzakk's Garage.

Not this time.

Finding pants in a portapotty is certainly odd, but in this case I'm not curious enough to look for clues.
The only logical explanation involves some guy crapping his pants in public, so the investigation stopped before it started.

Stencil Graffiti Time Again

It's been a long time since I brought you stencil graffiti.
I really like this one.

Previous examples:
June 2006
August 2005
October 2050
January 2006
March 2007

Ride To The Poor House?

24-hour Veterinary Clinics are a sure way to end up with a dead pet and a bill that'll require a 2nd mortgage for most people.

Add a pet ambulance charge and you might as well bring the pink slip to your car along, although if you have a car why are you calling an ambulance?
They have to drive twice as far and I'm pretty sure that using a siren and speeding isn't allowed, so unless your fat-ass dog needs a defibrulator to re-start it's lazy heart, what can a vet's assistant really do?

Sure, I "love" my snake and guppies, and the dogs and cats before them.
But there's a limit.
Maybe the time I spent on a farm in Tennessee has something to do with my pragmatism?
I have ridden in an ambulance only once despite major car accidents, nearly biting my tongue off (OUCH-and gallons of blood) etc.
Just isn't worth it most of the time.

Much like calling the cops because your husband slapped you--does giving a third party (lawyers, the court) a bunch of money solve the problem?
It's easier and cheaper to just bring him that sandwich...

Mass?

I don't know if I like "clever" church signs or not.
On the one hand they can be humorous, if you find eight year olds funny.
But they can be a distraction to drivers.

I think I'll just turn the other cheek...

How Does This Happen?

I stopped in a WalMart parking lot, backed up and then sat there, and didn't get cursed or shot.


And who flips a sign over but doesn't notice?

Photo by SylCan2

HurriShame

Really? The storm is already in Missouri? I was told it would be right over my house today.
Forget about the $300 in lost wages and bonus beach motel weekend in Corpus Christi, where the hell is a few minutes of rain for my thirsty yard?

Hurricane Ike butt-fucked me and didn't even bring my grass breakfast the next day.

Mustard Frog

What is the Christmas Frog's off-season job?

Recommending mustard to the singer.

Creeps

All three of these morons started off behind the line, but led by the van they kept inching forward.
Again and again, until they were in danger of being hit by cars turning in front of them.
So stupid...
How long do you have to drive around here before you know that green lights go clockwise at these highway intersections, making it easy to know when it's about to be your turn.

Delete Forever?

In my spam box tonight.

Made me laugh--I don't think the Dalai Lama is alone on this.
Unless you like a having a weiner that smells like fried chicken and latte, take a pass on Britney's fellatio offers.

The Blocker

Liking the band is fine, but must you stand in front of the speakers for six whole songs?
You're blocking the sound and diminishing everyone else's enjoyment.

I know you really just want all the women to see how studly and fun you are, right wine-boy?
Those are some seriously big shorts.
Any longer and they would be capris.

"Lower Than A Snake's Belly"

Don't you just love those graphic phrases from old westerns?
Compared with today's practice of just calling someone a motherfucker automatically, it's readily apparent to me that at least in the Hollywood version of their vernacular the cowboy put a little more effort into choosing his insults.
They are more lyrical, too.
A better flow...

In this house, the things that are lower than a snake's belly are support systems for said snake.
Mostly lights.
An 18" flourescent on a timer for daytime light with little heat, an incandescent bulb on a dimmer for adjustable heat, and a spotlight for the feeding tank.

Boring--no saloon fights or duels.



This was my first experience using the A300 on a tripod indoors, with it's tilting LCD screen.
It was much like my old camera in results and comfort, and while the F717's twisting body/lens joint was quicker and easier to use (you just grab the body and crank it around where you want it) the articulated screens on the A300/A350 cameras are more of a 'fingers' version that has it's advantages.
During this shoot I alternated between Live View and chimping because tilting LCDs make both methods easier.

Book Review

Helpful



How's that for a short review, Matthew?

But what's up with the little stuffed freaks who like to watch big girls use the potty?
A little too close for comfort, and while the white rabbit is obviously gay and the pink-bowed bear is a chick, the dudebear in the middle has me worried with his creepy intensity.

There's another comedic gem in this photo I got with my phone at Borders if you can read.

Class And Style

Dare I say panache?

Duct tape and rope are valid car repair tools.
The missing rear window is just clever ventilation, probably necessary due to the gas fumes.


This was the last photo I was able to take before my camera failed completely. I'm sending it back to Sony's Laredo Texas repair facility so they can replace the CCD sensor again or at least fix the faulty connection.
Crap.

But I Didn't Say Cheese!

Right about now some tourist is getting their photos back from Walgreen's and noticing the silver camera pointed at them.

What The Hell?

Half of my crackers are busted.
A box full of tiny pieces and bacon/cheddar dust.


I know--this was a weak post.

You've Been Warned

There are popular nightclubs on both sides of Broadway in this area.
People cross the street when a band sucks or drink prices suck, because the grass is always greener...
Young idiots get hit by cars because they didn't learn how to cross a street correctly when they were five years old, unlike folks from my generation.
Darwin's Laughing--Survival of the Fittest still applies.

But I seriously doubt you'll score a jaywalking ticket while getting patched-up in the ER--SA cops don't even write them for the silly tourists who make downtown into a live-action Frogger game.

I'm ambivalent--if you get hit you're stupid, and so are the clubs with these signs.
Everyone involved gets an italicized fuck you.

Rolling My Eyes As Hard As I Can

This was once a fine car--1985 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme.
Mine was great--plush yet fast, with manly American Racing aluminum mags, 70-series (fat) Goodyear Eagle tires, stiff aftermarket springs and gas shocks, a killer sound system that befits an audio engineer, all white paint and top.
Best car I ever owned.

This Slipknot thing is like a slap in the face. If you want to fuck a car up, start with a Hyundai or something.
And pick a better band.


Then kill yourself and leave the Cutlass to an uncle who can make it cool again, punk.

What's This World Comming To?

In all my years as a graphic artist for the print shop I co-owned with my brother, misspelled words never happened.
As I remember things, the word "shoot" was somehow substituted for "hunt" one time with a very unhappy customer as a result, but that was it. They still paid, so it wasn't too tragic.
We didn't even have the internet back then to quickly check spelling.
Resorting to the dictionary on my desk was a twice-a-year thing, because I have skills and remember goofy shit like how to spell coming.

This banner sign has been up for over 6 weeks now, and I really hope the car wash people got a partial refund.
Wouldn't it be great if we could go back to those days when people gave a shit and did things right?

Chingachgook

The Last of the Mohicans was spotted drinking Mexican beer in a bar tonight.

This photo is a reflection of a silhouette, for 2 bonus points.

More Backstage Fun

A little Good Cop/Bad Cop action?

For the record, he wasn't doing anything.

Rugburn

The drummer could use an ashtray.

And probably a beer, come to think of it.

Power Or Space...

...you can't have both.

This absurdly small stage has three quad AC outlets.
I have encountered many that were 5 times the size but with just 1/3rd as many outlets.
Sometimes you just can't win.

Plugging A Link

I check xkcd several times a week for new webcomics about "... romance,
sarcasm, math, and language."
There's always a link on the right side of this page if you ever visit and find I have nothing new to offer.

Make sure to check out the bonus comments when you hover your cursor over his comics.

Choices

We make choices every day.
Some are minor.
Others affect us for the rest of our lives.

Try to choose wisely.
Ask yourself "What would Zzakk do?"

Seriously No Parking

This is the very last place I would want to be caught parking my car.
Nuns in a Rugby scrum around the Honda with ticket books and rulers haunts my dreams.

You Can't Come Backstage Without A Pass!

Most venues require a laminated "All Access" pass, but the Fiesta Oyster Bake people issue all band members, crew, and guests with the yellow wristbands seen on the man who couldn't get his wife and children into the restricted area.
Security was firm--the girl who got Chrissy to sign her big left titty tried to use her naked breast as a ticket backstage but the cops weren't playing around.

Ben Was Wise

From the Fiesta Oyster Bake.

In the background is the sound mixing console I didn't operate today.
Photos were more important to the band, although I think I should have run the first few songs anyway just to give the hired crew an idea of what rock music is supposed to sound like.

Had a Sony Memory Stick failure today.
The good news is that it doesn't technically belong to me and has low capacity so I don't really give a shit.
I always format before using a stick that has sat around unused for months, and that's when the error code showed-up.
I'm waiting for Sony-branded 2GB Pro sticks to hit $20--then I'll be all set.
As it is now I can't shoot more than 300 photos before returning to my computer with a case full of memory--a 2GB MSPro will put me past 1000.
I think one is all I need, but spares are required since they won't make such small-capacity ones for very long and 2 gigs is the most my camera was designed to handle. Probably need to buy three at least to ensure my future.
I've been bitten in the ass a few times by last-year's size going on sale then being withdrawn from the market before I had enough of them. Won't pay full price, won't buy inferior brands, still pissed that I paid $35 for a 64mb MS a few years ago when you can get 2gb for that much now.

The camera and computer memory market is a racket.
Every year they double the storage capacity, yet the prices soon fall to where they were before. So they double capacity to get the morons to pay full price again.

Caption Contest

Please leave your caption in the comments.
Thanks.

It's a birthday cake btw.

Truth In Advertising?

I'll have to take their word for it being Gourmet.
Our snake hasn't said anything one way or the other.

Take Down Your Xmas Lights!

Phone-camera shot from a moving car while driving, but you get the idea.

I took this on January 29th which is already a late date to have Christmas lights outside of a box in your garage, let alone still on your house and lit.
As of now they are still up and lighted every night--I see them on the way home from work and laugh my ass off.

Come on, people.
Just because your porch light is busted (my latest theory that fits all the details) doesn't mean you can't come up with a better alternative.
I can walk into a dozen different stores and either fix your problem or buy a reasonable replacement for under $10.
Use your heads, if they still work.

My previous theory that they died alone and left the lights on didn't pan out after I saw living humans(?) park in the driveway and go inside.

Maybe it's some kind of drug-dealer signal?
If so, the house is on Newcome near the elementary school...

The Sick Squirrel

Walking out to my car I was surprised by this squirrel on the porch right next to our front door.
Just opening the door should have sent it running let alone waving my arms, yelling and taking it's picture with my phone's camera:
Something must be wrong with it--this isn't normal behavior at all.
I was raised long before the generation of people who were taught that all animals want to be our friends. These deluded folks are sometimes torn apart by bears, proving that Darwin was right.
No, I was taught to fear rabies and other diseases that wild creatures carry.
Don't misunderstand, I dearly love animals and frequently try to capture their beauty in photographs for everyone to enjoy, but common sense tells me that they can be unpredictable (ever watch Jack Hanna on Letterman?) especially when sick or injured.
To compound the normal level of caution, my cousing James (an entymologist!) recently died from an auto-immune disorder that caused neuro-muscular degeneration--the first of my generation in the family to die--from a tick bite!!!
Fuck critters--It's us or them sometimes, and people are more important to me than bugs and rodents.

This is Mr. Sick Squirrel after I used the garden hose to wash him off the porch and into the yard.
No fucking way am I letting him suddenly "get better" and leap into our home.
Ever had a squirrel or bat in your house, running rampant and rabid around the place knocking shit off shelves and ruining your day?
I have, and it sucks ass.

After washing old sick&furry into the yard it was obvious he was spent and needed some rest, so I got my good camera for the photo above.
Nice and close, so everyone who thinks he looks sad will hate me even more.

It was over 90 degrees that day, and I purposely left him in the sun so his fur would dry fast and he could recover more quickly.
Still there a few hours later, gone a few more hours after that.

I'm not especially proud of the way I handled this, but I don't think there was any better way.
The city wasn't going to come out for a damn sick squirrel unless somebody had already gotten bit, and that's letting things get too far.
Wild animals aren't safe no matter how hard you wish they could be or what kind of friendly vibes you send them, especially when sick or injured.
A proper amount of respect for their potential danger is never a bad thing.

Whether he got better on his own or was eaten by something bigger isn't my affair.
Just get the hell off my porch so I don't have to worry about what you might do.

No Babies Again

Found this floating somewhere in the vast toilet of the interwebs.
Don't remember where, but it had already been reposted so many times that locating the original photographer proved impossible.

Click on this link to see the one I shot, as posted way back in April of 2005 during the first weeks of Zzakk's Garage.

Self-Colonoscopy

Might as well take a look around while you're head is so deep in your own ass.

Don't remember where on the web I found this news-worthy nugget of shit.
It makes me sad to accept that there are people who really think like this.

What do officers in the field (the only ones that troops get a chance to shoot) have to do with foreign policy?
Don't these officers have families, too?

Whoever made that sign makes me sick.
Traitorous, blood-thirsty, evil and stupid piece of filth.

Global Warming IS Bullshit!

I told you so!

The sun has a much greater impact on Earth's temperature than greenhouse gasses ever have.

A Crisis Of Epic Proportions

There's a fucking mozzarella cheese shortage?
Why am I only finding out about this now?
Of all people, I should be kept in the loop on shit like this.
You saw my last post, right?

I won't name this restaurant, but they are known for their cheese pride.
I can't imagine the panic knowing that you're about to close early and lose untold amounts of revenue due to a lack of cheese, all because your reputation demands that you bend over and take it rather than just send someone to the grocery store to grab a few pounds of Kraft.

Valentine's Day Is Cheesy

Look what Papa Murphy's take & bake was doing on Thursday the 14th.


I highly recommend their fresh pizzas.
They cook up in your oven better and faster than frozen, and aren't skimpy on the toppings.
A great value, round or heart-shaped.

WTF?

Jane Fonda said cunt live on the Today Show?

I didn't see it, so I'm guessing she was talking about the election.

As Promised

I am a little surprised that there is anything newsworthy going on with our old friend the dead deer, but there is.
His antlers are gone!
Someone sawed them off and apparently replaced them with flies.

This isn't a big mystery when you think it through.
During the rut bucks will fight for dominance, to score with the sexiest does.
The sound of clashing antlers attracts other bucks.
Hunters rattle real or fake antlers together for the same reason.
A hunter must have wanted some free real ones for this purpose.

Waste Not, Want Not.

Not Looking So Good

After a few weeks Mr. Dead Deer is getting a little decrepit.
(For our redneck readers decrepit means shitty-looking.
Like your yard.)

I guess I'll be shooting a new portrait every month to track the decay and give me something to post when I don't have anything better.
Hopefully the city won't send someone out to clean this mess up before I'm done with it.
At least the flies and smell are gone.

Led Zeppelin, Symphony Style

An interesting idea, the San Antonio Symphony doing Led Zeppelin songs.
One night only, for obvious reasons.
I don't think this is going to work very well, but who knows?

Will it introduce classical music to classic rock fans?
Or will the symphony-types get a new appreciation for some of the best rock music ever composed?
Considering how long ago Led Zep was in it's prime, aren't these two groups the same age and possibly the same people?

Damn, I Look Good

Spotted this grackle checking himself out in the bumper reflection.
Thought of Heckle & Jeckle.

Jeans On Display

Sometimes I think the people who design the displays in department stores aren't even trying anymore.
Or trying too hard and failing.

Rolled-up cuffs?
Who the hell does that?

Pockets pulled out?
A popular look among those who are always passed-out drunk on the sidewalk.

Hardware store clamps acting like clothespins?
Try as you might to position these pants as something real men might wear, the facts point directly at your failure.

Men wear blue jeans.
Levi's.
Country types wear Wranglers, I think.
Legends speak of a brand called Lee's.
When your employer pays, it's Dickies.

If a man wants to appear casual--wait, strike that!
When a man is relaxing or working on stuff, he wears older Levi's that are faded and scuffed and might have a hole or two.
This keeps the newer jeans from getting damaged--it's not a fucking fashion statement.

The trousers in the photo are all different colors that simulate various stages of age and hard usage. One pair sports fake stainage as if the wearer was routinely engaged in non-Wii activities of a manly nature.
Lies And Bullshit.

Men don't buy steaks with bite marks or half-smoked cigars or opened cans of beer.
Would you actually pay more for a new car with faded paint and some scratches just to impress upon strangers that you've driven it around awhile?
It makes zero fucking sense.
Scars and wrinkles and skills and wisdom are earned.

If you try to buy them it makes you a poser and a tool.
And everyone knows it just from looking at you!



In related news: Today I saw a white guy wearing his big pants down below his ass like it was 2006, and some muffin-tops that were 5 visits to Starbucks away from becoming loaves of french bread.
It's 2008.
Either go new or go classic--anything else is just plain lazy.

What's That Smell?

Much like Hillary's chances, this deer was dead, smelled like ass, and was covered with flies.

Found it on a bike ride--my theory based on the damage I saw and other clues is that it was clipped by a car on Wurzbach Road, breaking a hind leg and it's pelvis.
Poor thing had enough adrenaline and guts to make it a hundred feet into the field and then lay down to die.
I was just starting to get sad when the smell hit me, and that was the end of that.

Checked on it today (a week later) and there's nothing but fur, bones and the 8-point rack.
Dust to dust.

Fish Gone Wild

You might recognize this fish from your aquarium--the hard working plecostomus, also called "sucker fish" by morons.
Another common name is armored catfish.
Whatever you want to call them, this photo proves that people don't have much common sense.

This was taken in the currently drained San Antonio River. It's swimming in six or 8 inches of water and doing just fine.
Problem is, these fish don't belong in this particular ecosystem.
Over the years enough shitheads have dumped their aquariums into the river (probably in a hurry to move--eviction is a bitch) that a population of plecos has grown to sustainable levels.
Hell, sustainable is an understatement--these hardy bastards have taken over the bottom-feeding niche and all but driven out the native catfish.
And that's a shame.
Ever seen one of these over a foot long? Now you have, and it proves how well they're doing.

So next time you need to dispose of your tropical fish do what the rest of us do: Sell them back to the pet store, give them to a friend, or just feed them to your cat.
It's funny that the people who can't bring themselves to kill a stupid fish end up helping to kill thousands of them.


On a related note, the State introduced tilapia into the river and they have been as big of a problem as the plecos.
And the large population of green iguanas in South Florida--created by people releasing pets that got too big for them to handle--were getting so chilled during a recent cold snap that they would shut down and eventually let go of the tree branches they were hanging onto.
Yes, it got so cold in Florida that it was raining iguanas.