Bill Of Health

The President got a good report on his physical. But here was the picture they printed. I'm just saying, if you are going to do a story on the health of the President, is this really the best person to pick to make that decision? I'm just sayin!!!

Badwater Feet

I found this pic of the second place finisher of the Badwater. Here was the explanation:

Ferg Hawke's feet one day after finishing second. John Vonhoff of "Fixing Your Feet" wants to interview him about pain tolerance and running.

Friggin YIKES!!!!

(If you don't know what the Badwater is, read this: http://www.grose.us/marathon/BADWATER.doc

Jane Fonda Can Kiss The Hole In My Ass!!!!

I found this on the Internet...

Richard, (my husband), never really talked a lot about his time in Viet Nam other than he had been shot by a sniper. However, he had a rather grainy, 8 x 10 black & white photo he had taken at a USO show of Ann Margaret with Bob Hope in the background that was one of his treasures.

A few years ago, Ann Margaret was doing a book signing at a local bookstore. Richard wanted to see if he could get her to sign the treasured photo so he arrived at the bookstore at 12 o'clock for the 7:30 signing. When I got there after work, the line went all the way around the bookstore, circled the parking lot, and disappeared behind a parking garage.

Before her appearance, bookstore employees announced that she would sign only her book and no memorabilia would be permitted. Richard was disappointed, but wanted to show her the photo and let her know how much those shows meant to lonely GI's so far from home.

Ann Margaret came out looking as beautiful as ever and, as 2nd in line, it was soon Richard's turn. He presented the book for her signature and then took out the photo. When he did, there were many shouts from the employees that she would not sign it. Richard said, "I understand. I just wanted her to see it".

She took one look at the photo, tears welled up in her eyes and she said, "This is one of my gentlemen from Viet Nam and I most certainly will sign his photo. I know what these men did for their country and I always have time for "my gentlemen". With that, she pulled Richard across the table and planted a big kiss on him.

She then made quite a to do about the bravery of the young men she met over the years, how much she admired them, and how much she appreciated them. There weren't too many dry eyes among those close enough to hear. She then posed for pictures and acted as if he was the only one there.

Later at dinner, Richard was very quiet. When I asked if he'd like to talk about it, my big strong husband broke down in tears. "That's the first time anyone ever thanked me for my time in the Army", he said.

Richard, like many others, came home to people who spit on him and shouted ugly things at him. That night was a turning point for him. He walked a little straighter and, for the first time in years, was proud to have been a Vet.

I'll never forget Ann Margaret for her graciousness and how much that small act of kindness meant to my husband. I now make it a point to say Thank You to every person I come across who served in our Armed Forces.

(I verified this story at http://www.snopes.com/politics/military/margret.asp)

My Great Aunt And Uncle Go To Italy

My Great Grandparents had 13 kids. This is one of them, Uncle Manuel (although he is my Great Uncle, I always considered him "Uncle Manuel."). His wife, Aunt Glenda, was always the whitest woman at the Mexican family reunions which as evil kids, we dubbed "Aunt Glenda, the Good Witch of the East." Why?

As a kid, I remember her as the tallest, whitest woman at the reunion because she towered over all the other Mexican women which numbered in the hundreds, it seemed. She was also that aunt with all the make up that she left smeared on your face after the obligitory kissing. Her bee-hive hairdo back then completes the picture but it's funny how much of that was a kid's perspective because looking at these pics, she is neither all that tall nor does she look like the whitest woman alive. In fact, she almost looks hispanic. Maybe living with Uncle Manuel all these years rubbed off.

But I do remember her with fondness and how affectionate she was, despite standing out in a sea of Mexicans.

Anyway, here are the pics and their explanations:

First one is in Saint Peter's Square














Second one trying to convince a priest that we want to see the Pope.














Third one is Tuscany farm house we stayed in outside of Florence.

I used to want to do this

When I was a kid, I wanted to be an astronaut. I wanted to fly in the shuttle and experience weightlessness.

Then the shuttle blew up when I was in junior high.

Then I got older and the thought of being strapped to the top of an exploding rocket and being on the leading edge of being thrust into space kinda lost its appeal.

If you saw me on an airplane during heavy turbulance, you would laugh at the thought of me during a lift off.

"Um, Captain Grose, this is Mission Control, you are going to supress your high-pitched squealing. It's short-circuiting the communication systems. Over."

TERROR ALERT IN FRANCE

Paris, July 7, 2005- AP and UPI reported that the French government has raised its terror alert level from RUN to HIDE on their four level danger scale. The two higher French danger levels are Surrender and Collaborate.

According to informed sources, the rise was precipitated by a fire yesterday which destroyed France's white flag factory, effectively paralyzing its military.

In light of the recent attacks in London, it is widely anticipated that the terror alert will be elevated to the third level before the weekend. Proposed next level: Bow to Mecca!

18 Years

It was on this day.

I flew from Seattle to San Diego.

I was scared.

The night got no better.

There were real nightmares waiting for me.

I was not good enough.

I was not fast enough.

I could do nothing right.

They yelled at me for everything.

They took everything I brought.

Even my hair.

I got two hours of sleep. That seemed like 2 minutes.

It was my birthday.

Not from my mother's womb.

But the birth of a Marine.

It just took 3 months to prove it.

18 years.

Don't Miss Nashville Pussy!!!

This was the subject line for an email from Ticketmaster.

Normally I would chalk this up to the normal flavor of junkmail that we all get but the fact that it was from Ticketmaster qualified it for a look out of sheer curiosity.

I just had to look for the simple reason that I couldn't believe. I mean I'm not surprised that some schmucks out there came up with something so crude but what I was really wondering was how said schmucks got so popular that the juggernaut Ticketmaster would endorse such a band.

So I opened it up and sure enough, it's a real band which made me wonder the gender make-up. I had to know this. What would be better? If it were all men, uh, poor showing gents. Way to work the subtly. If it were women, ewwwwww. Not exactly the kind of little treasures you want to take home to mom.

Well, it ended up an unhappy medium. Two men and two women. And that's where it ended. No research into if they are couples, where the name came from, etc. Just, well, I had enough.

I Got 26-Year-Old College Coeds Emailing Me!!!

So, you think this is legit?

Jason,

My name is Maxine and I'm a 26 year old college student. I love meeting new people from all over the world. Not looking for love - I have a boyfriend. As a summer hobby I'm contactign people to find email buddies. We don't have to chat often, just every now and then. HOpe you're interested. If you'd like I can send you a pic of myself.

Thanks again,

Maxine
--------------------------

What was that?

Thanks for bursting my bubble. You're just plain mean!!!

More Funny

Why do we press harder on a remote control when we know the batteries are getting weak?

Why do banks charge a fee on "insufficient funds" when they know there is not enough?

Why does someone believe you when you say there are four billion stars,
but check when you say the paint is wet?

Why doesn't glue stick to the bottle?

Why do they use sterilized needles for death by lethal injection?

Why doesn't Tarzan have a beard?

Why does Superman stop bullets with his chest, but ducks when you throw a revolver at him?

Why do Kamikaze pilots wear helmets?

Whose idea was it to put an "S" in the word "lisp"?

If people evolved from apes, why are there still apes?

Why is it that no matter what color bubble bath you use the bubbles are always white?

Is there ever a day that mattresses are not on sale?

Why do people constantly return to the refrigerator with hopes that something new to eat will have materialized?

Why do people keep running over a string a dozen times with their vacuum cleaner,
then reach down, pick it up, examine it, then put it down to give the vacuum one more chance?

Why is it that no plastic bag will open from the end you first try?

How do those dead bugs get into those enclosed light fixtures?

When we are in the supermarket and someone rams our ankle with a shopping cart then apologizes for doing so, why do we say, "It's all right?"
Well, it isn't all right. So, why don't we say, "That hurt, you stupid idiot?"

Why is it that whenever you attempt to catch something that's falling off the table
you always manage to knock something else over?

In winter, why do we try to keep the house as warm as it was in summer
when we complained about the heat?

How come you never hear father-in-law jokes?

If at first you don't succeed, shouldn't you try doing it like your wife told you to do it?

And obviously, if at first you don't succeed, then don't take up sky diving!

And my FAVORITE......

The statistics on sanity are that one out of every four persons is suffering from some sort of mental illness. Think of your three best friends; if they're okay, then it's you.

More email reminders of why...

(Email from a reader)

I recently just returned from OCS, and I thought that I would take this opportunity to say how much I enjoy your Blog. I read it daily, with the exception of the past 6 weeks. While in Quantico, I found myself paying close attention to the Marines running around base and the trails. We can call it trying to momentarily escape my reality, but I would always look to see if it was Captain Grose out for a jog. I never did find you, but at least the attempts at spotting you gave me a short way to pass the time. It looks like I'll have some catching up to do in the Blog, but then again, my amount of free time has suddenly sky-rocketed.

Semper Fi,

Proof That The World is Nuts

I didn't write this.

I didn't make the comments.

I didn't verify if any of this is true.

But I laughed aloud at many of them.

----------------------------------------

In Lebanon, men are legally allowed to have sex with animals, but the animals must be female. Having sexual relations with a male animal is punishable by death. (Like THAT makes sense.)

In Bahrain, a male doctor may legally examine a woman's genitals, but is prohibited from looking directly at them during the examination. He may only see their reflection in a mirror. (Do they look different reversed?)

Muslims are banned from looking at the genitals of a corpse. This also applies to undertakers. The sex organs of the deceased must be covered with a brick or piece of wood at all times. (A brick??)

The penalty for masturbation in Indonesia is decapitation. (Much worse than "going blind!")

(This one is the best)
There are men in Guam whose full-time job is to travel the countryside and deflower young virgins, who pay them for the privilege of having sex for the first time Reason: under Guam law, it is expressly forbidden for virgins to marry. (Let's just think for a minute; is there any job anywhere else in the world that even comes close to this?)

In Hong Kong, a betrayed wife is legally allowed to kill her adulterous husband, but may only do so with her bare hands. The husband's illicit lover, on the other hand, may be killed in any manner desired. (Ah! Justice!)

Topless saleswomen are legal in Liverpool, England but only in tropical fish stores. (But of course!)

In Cali, Colombia, a woman may only have sex with her husband, and the first time this happens, her mother must be in the room to witness the act. (Makes one shudder at the thought.)

In Santa Cruz, Bolivia, it is illegal for a man to have sex with a woman and her daughter at the same time. (I presume this was a big enough problem that they had to pass this law?)

In Maryland, it is illegal to sell condoms from vending machines with one exception: Prophylactics may be dispensed from a vending machine only "in places where alcoholic beverages are sold for consumption on the premises." (Is this a great country or what? Well not as great as Guam!)

Banging your head against a wall uses 150 calories an hour. (Who volunteers for this stuff?)

Humans and dolphins are the only species that have sex for pleasure. (Is that why Flipper was always smiling?)

The ant can lift 50 times its own weight, can pull 30 times its own weight and always falls over on its right side when intoxicated. (From drinking little bottles of ... ?) (Did the government pay for this research??)

Butterflies taste with their feet. (Ah, geez.)

An ostrich's eye is bigger than its brain. (I know some people like that.)

Starfish don't have brains. (I know some people like that, too.)

Turtles can breathe through their butts. (And I thought I had bad breath in the morning!)

I'm friggin tired

Must have been the emotional experience of watching Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.

Or the beer with the tostadas.

Or I'm lazy as a sloth on Valium.

Take your pick. I'm gonna go read my Know-It-All book and likely fall asleep with it on my chest.

Sir,

In red on your home page you state the following: I'm heading out on vacation to Seattle and camping in Wyoming. I'll be back in three weeks so if you want to rob my house , now the times to do it (Let me add a period in here for you, Chris) .

I make the following observation on that. You cannot "Rob" a house, a house is not human. You "burglarize" a house. You rob a person with either Fear or Force. You burglarize a building by entering a building with or without force with the intention of committing a felony. Anyhow I hope you enjoyed your vacation, I could not pass up this opportunity to be a smart ass. I feel you would not respect me if I did not correct the biggest legal blunder known to people who watch too many cop shows on TV. Also take this opportunity to educate Alex and Stephanie so they may grow up knowing the proper terminology.

I await with great anticipation your come back email.

(He asked for it)

From me:

What if the person is unconscious? No fear or force. So is that robbing them? I would argue it was burglarizing because they are as passive and aware as a house.

And what about kissing my ass? Not literally, but figuratively. Would that violate the definition of kissing since it is physical contact with the lips?

We won’t get into “bite me.”

Why I Maintain A Website

Capt. Grose Sir,

My name is (X) and I came across your website thanks to an enlisted friend of mine. Your website is a great inspiration to me as a perspective Officer Candidate. I'm in the process of getting my PT in gear so I can go to my OSO and get the paperwork started for PLC with the best possible initial PFT.

You Sir make me want to become the best Marine Corps Officer that I can be, because it would be a dishonor to Marines such as yourself, my uncle (an enlisted SSGT.), as well as all other marines for me to not be the best. Thank you very much for the information on your website it is VERY helppful, and quite frankly reminds me of exactly why I want to be a leader of Marines.

(www.grose.us)

Blog plan

This is what I came up with as an intro to my other blog to explain my long absence and what I'm going to do about it:

I'm back.

And I have a month worth of blogs that I've kept up with while on vacation and devoid of connectivity for the most part.

But you of short attention span, will not read them. If I post them, you will not take the time to go back and read of my epic adventures. You just won't. I know you. Stop arguing.

Babies.

So here is what I'm gonna do. I will keep up with them but will only post two per day starting with the oldest until I catch up. For you math whizzes, you will see that it will take two weeks to catch up in this manner.

If you detect a tone here, it's because I'm going to be harder on myself about all aspects of my life which includes you. Sorry if it bleeds over but it's past due.
So come live in the past with me...

Mowing rage

I was mowing the yard today and was angry. Mean. Rage-mowing.

The meter man walked up and mouthed something. I had to turn off my mower with a scowl.

"Gas meter."
"Gas?"
"Yeah, is the meter on the side or in back."

I wanted to say (and did, in my head)...

"Find it yourself, bitch."

It was a man.

"You're charging me for it. If you can't find it, tough break. Like I'm gonna help."

What actually came out was "I don't know."

What he probably wanted to say (and probably did, in his head.)

"Dumbass doesn't even know where his meter is."

Cheers email

This was interesting (to me):

Hi there
I wonder if you can help me. I'm looking to find where these lyrics come from...
"I hate it with the hot intensity of a thousand suns"
I put these words into my computer and your info came up along with a load of other stuff.
Im hoping you may know as these words appear on the info the my search engine gave to me. What song is it and who might have sung it.
If you can tell me, I will be well pleased! :-))
Thanks anyway (whether you can help or not)
Take Care and Be Happy.

My response:

Hils,

Sorry, but racking my memory, I got that phrase from an episode of Cheers when I was a kid. It was Kirstie Ally’s character who said it to Sam Malone. I thought it was one of the funniest lines I ever heard.

It frightens me that I know all that.

I'm back again and again...

I will now post here every day. Sometimes more.

You don't believe me. I know. I've made that promise before. But I'm home and will have access every day.

Fine, don't believe me. I wouldn't either.

Infection Imperfection

(This is a back-post for June 22. I will catch up on my normal site when I return but wanted to start posting these for general S&G as I get them done on vacation)

It happened again. I got an uber-virus on my computer and I’m not very happy about it. I truly wish I could meet with the author of this virus or any virus author so I could proceed to beat the holy living shit out of them. Then pound them until they are pink mush. And then beat them some more. And then form their geletous refuse into the shape of a human again and start all over.

As you can tell, I’m not too happy about all of this.

It happened when I innocently tried to look up some lyrics. I know that these days, Googling for song lyrics is pretty much just pulling up a list of spyware/virus sites. I had gone through this before so to try to head this off, I scrolled down a few pages in the hopes that I could get past the big ones and try to catch the lessor infected sites.

Uh…..no.

The second I hit the link, I knew I was infected. Pop-ups were coming fast and furious and my blocker was knocking them down as fast as they appeared. But then the tell-tale sign that I was infected came when my start-up monitor and another protection program came up and ask if I wanted to allow a certain executable. The good news was that it caught it but the bad news, I knew, was that it would continue to ask me over and over, in effect, screwing up my computer.

I knew I was screwed and while I knew I would get rid of it, the deep, aching feeling hit that I was going to spend too much time (defined as more than 5 seconds) undoing what some shitbag programming jackass did to me. So the steaming began.

My first reaction is to run Ad Aware. After updating it and running it, it caught the normal 15 trillion problems but I knew deep down inside that it would not fix this. I then ran Spybot Search and Destroy. Same result. I restarted my computer and still got infection warnings. Crap!!!

I then went to my Windows/system32 folder and sorted the files by date. I found a couple of .exe and .dll files that I tried to erase. Sure enough, they didn’t want to go away which meant they were in use and not for anything good, mind you.

The next thing to do was to start my computer in safe mode (gets the computer basically up but doesn’t load all the extra crap, some of which are the infected files). I went and erased the suspected .exe and .dll files. I ran both Ad Aware and Spybot S&D again (both of which take forever on my monstrous hard drives). I started the computer over and …

Still infected.

My response was not very proper. It rhymed with “suck.”

Now I knew I’d have to go to the next level of extermination: research.

The behavior was that I was getting pop up ads. How this happens I don’t know. I have a router with a firewall. I have a startup monitor. I have a watchdog program. I have Symantec Antivirus that I update and scan every night. I have Google Popup blocker. I keep updated and run Ad Aware and Spybot S&D often.

This was a very advanced program to get through all those defenses. And while I could have seen it as a worthy opponent, I didn’t. I saw it as an intrusion and a source of forced time waste.

I noted that the title bar of the pop up ads I was being served, there was something that said “Aurora – a part of the ABI Network.” OK, I knew who to bomb. Just kidding… where to start.

I found out that “ABI” stands for “A Better Network” and it was a company who supposedly served ads to people who want them. Come on guys, NO ONE wants these ads and especially when they are snuck onto your computer without a way to get them off without drastic measures.

I found a message board that talked about it and gave a few links to places I could go to get it removed. In particular, I found a script that had particular instructions to remove it and while I find it reassuring that this Trojan Horse I had stumbled on was well known, it was a new, rather nasty little bastard and it would cost me some time to rid myself of it.

Here is what it basically had me do: download two free programs (one really free and one that was a trial version). Start in safe mode and run the first one. Then run the second one. Then run Hijack This and get rid of a registry entry. Seemed simple enough, huh?

Well, then you have not been a long-time Jason-Blog reader.

I ran the first one which when unzipped created two files, one of which I was supposed to run but neither of which were named what the instructions told me they should be named. So I took a guess and not much happened, which was what it said would happen. Bad instructions, guys. You don’t tell someone that “nothing will happen” when you perform a step right because if they screwed it up (as I’m known to do from time to time to time to time…) then there is no difference in what happens if you do it right or wrong.

I then started the second program which was nothing more than a scan of my system much like Ad Aware. The problem was that my hard drive is huge and it wanted to run a scan on my backup drive, too. So with this set in motion, I went to do other things while hours passed.

When it finally decided I had had enough, it got done and I ran HiJack This, as asked. I found the registry entry and killed it.

At this point, I was supposed to start the computer in regular mode and everything was supposed to be hunky dory. And you know I just can’t let that happen so for S&G, I ran HiJack This again to see what should happen. As expected, there was no slimy bastard commie shitbag entries from spyware and I was happy. Had I effectively killed this cockroach of a program in one afternoon?

Unbelieving (or maybe just to get the thrill one more time of seeing a clean scan), I ran HiJack This one more time.

Part of me says I should have left good enough alone. The other part of me says that it’s better I found out since not knowing wouldn’t change the fact. A third side says that he likes strawberries and that he wanders if his fist can fit into his mouth. We tend to ignore that side but he takes over when in long meetings.

The entry was back.

Sonofabitchbassbastardfaglovingpieceofdogshitmother…

OK, ok, maybe I screwed up the first step by picking the wrong file to run. So I went back and ran both of them. Many times. There, you bastard, did I run the right program THIS time? (yes, that’s both huffy and pissy)

It was getting late so the idea was just to set it into motion and go to bed, secure in the knowledge that I would wake up blissful and once again, fully scanned. Wow, now that sounds both dirty and scary.

I fell asleep mumbling. It bore a striking resemblance to this once again:

Sonofabitchbassbastardfaglovingpieceofdogshitmother…

From The Silence

Yep, Folks, I know. But I've been busy vacationing.

You assume I'm just sitting around, reading, eating ice cream, and testing my theory that I can actually sleep 20 hours per day. That's about what I thought too but to my surprise, it's been quite the opposite.

The good news is that I've almost kept up with my blog. OK, well almost caught up and then almost kept up. This is amazing that I'm not way ahead because I'm spending a few hours each morning at Starbuck's typing away but alas, that just means longer posts.

Some quick shots:

I saw the Mariners beat Texas 40 rows behind home plate.

I met The Peanut Guy (a famous vender that's been slingin' peanuts since I was a little kid).

I saw the marathon course and was horrified to see that it is one of the hilliest courses out of the 12 I've run. It's gonna be a tough race.

I spent $120 on an Alanis Morissette ticket: 3rd row center. And it's on the night of marathon day so I should be drooling by then.

I spent $90 at the Indian reservation for fireworks. Part of it was going in with the rest of the family and we ended up with a couple of hundred dollars worth. We will be able to invade a small country if we choose to.

Other than that, I've been doing a lot of visiting, a lot of running, a lot of eating, more drinking than I should, and kicking back at Starbuck's every morning trying to capture my days.

And eating my weight in cherries.

I'm also suffering through painfully slow dial-up at my in-laws so I don't know how often I will be able to post. Also, they use AOL and don't even have IE on their computer.

I hate AOL.
I hate AOL.
I hate AOL.
I hate AOL.
I hate AOL.
I hate AOL.
I hate AOL.
I hate AOL.
I hate AOL.
I hate AOL.

OK, gotta go.

Happy Independence Day, everyone.