Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Realizations


1. I've come to realize that my chest-size...
is less important than the length of my penis.

2. I've come to realize that my job...
pays less than teenaged girls make for working as strippers.

3. I've come to realize that when I'm driving...
I like to imagine cell-phone driver's heads exploding in a ball of fire and blood.

4. I've come to realize that I need...
blow jobs and porn

5. I've come to realize that I have lost...
the ability to get throbbing erections at random and totally inappropriate times, like I always did back in high school.

6. I've come to realize that I hate it when...
my 4-year-old great-niece accidentally hits me in the balls in the middle of a crowded restaurant while we're walking to our table.

7. I've come to realize that when I'm drunk...
I still can't dance or sing worth a shit.

8. I've come to realize that money...
can buy hookers and alcohol at the same time!

9. I've come to realize that certain people...
don't appreciate the valuable contribution that hookers offer to society.

10. I've come to realize that I will always...
crap in the handicapped stall whenever it is available.

11. I've come to realize that my sibling(s)....
are all screwed up, too, just in different ways.

12. I've come to realize that my mom...
will never be able to drive or cook very well, and we should all just learn to accept this.

13. I've come to realize that my cell phone...
doesn't float, and I don't care enough to go in after it. BLOOP!

14. I've come to realize that when I woke up this morning...
I had a stiffer one than I'm likely to have the entire rest of the day.

15. I've come to realize that last night before I went to sleep...
I shouldn't have watched porn on Showtime.

16. I've come to realize that right now I am thinking...
about the porn on Showtime.

17. I've come to realize that my dad...
was a good man for introducing me to porn.

18. I've come to realize that when I get on The Blog...
I can waste an entire night without accomplishing one damn thing.

19. I've come to realize that today...
is a good day to moon a cop.

20. I've come to realize that tonight...
I may be in jail for mooning the cop.

21. I've come to realize that tomorrow...
there will be more cops and strippers and porn.

22. I've come to realize that I really want to...
lick Jessica Biel and make her call out to "Oh God."

23. I've come to realize that the person who is most likely to repost this is...
Barney Frank, while cursing me for calling him an Elmer Fuddling.

24. I've come to realize that life...
is like a box of chocolates. And you can use those chocolates to bargain for sex from a hot woman who likes chocolates, which have somehow been mysteriously injected with tequila.

25. I've come to realize that this weekend...
all the hookers were busy with Elvis freaks.

26. I've realized the best music to listen to when I am upset...
is the sound of hundreds of helpless people screaming in terror at the top of their lungs, begging me to spare their lives. Wait, what were we talking about?

27. I've come to realize that my friends...
used to get laid more than I did back when we were younger.

28. I've come to realize that this year...
I need to make up for those younger years.

29. I've come to realize that my exes...
didn't get along well with my 'Oh's.

30. I've come to realize that maybe I should...
be nicer to strippers, because one day, probably next weekend, I may need them to be nice to me.

31. I've come to realize that I love...
strippers and hookers and tequila.

32. I've come to realize that I don't understand...
why more attractive young girls don't become strippers.

33. I've come to realize my past...
would've been better if it had included more strippers.

34. I've come to realize that parties...
go better with strippers.

35. I've come to realize that I'm totally terrified...
of hiring a stripper while drunk only to discover that she's a he.

36. I've come to realize that my life...
can be enhanced by liberal doses of strippers and tequila.


Saturday, October 11, 2008

It's not you, it's me


So, it's Saturday and I'm tired. I worked my ass off yesterday before driving through completely insane moron traffic back to Memphis. Today I'm home alone and I'm just dead. I'm watching the Texas Longhorns try to surprise the big Oklahoma Sooners. So far they're doing surprisingly well, but it's going to take a miracle to beat them, to be brutally honest. I've got an empty beer in my hand and I'm just sitting here thinking, "I wonder if I can fit my dick in this bottle?"

Oh, I know what you're thinking. Yes, I really do.

You're thinking, "what kind of beer is it?"

It's Schiner Bock, of course, the beer of Texans. What else?

You can buy Schiner Bock almost anywhere in America if you just look hard enough. It's both tasty and refreshing!


Hey, Texas just broke one free and ran all the way down to the 20! That's awesome. They need a touchdown and a 2 point conversion just to tie this game up.

Awesome! They just scored the touchdown as I was writing this. Now it's back to a one point game.


Did you know that I was supposed to go to the University of Texas at Austin? It's true. I was accepted and everything. But unknown to me at the time, my feminist mother worked behind the scenes to sabatoge that and make me stay home for college. She lied and denied that she had anything to do with it for years and years, as feminist always do, only to admit all these years later that it was, in fact, her doing. And do you know why she did it? She said that after visiting the campus she decided that the girls were too sexy and she was afraid I might have sex. Sex! In college! Yes, seriously. I couldn't make this shit up. This is what feminists call 'pro choice'. It means they make all the biggest choices of your life for you, without any input from you, and without admitting to you that they fucked you over in one of the biggest and most critical decisions of your life.

Of course, like the modern Republicans, my father was entirely complicit in all this, making absolutely no effort to put a stop to it and never admitting to me what really went on. He went to his grave keeping this secret from me, letting me hate him for betraying me while shielding my mother from her guilt. See why I like Libertarian candidate Bob Barr?

I see that Auburn is taking on Arkansas later today. That's going to be important, because Alabama beat the living crap out of Arkansas 2 weeks ago. If Auburn, who has been playing like absolute crap this season, is to have any hope against Alabama in the Iron Bowl they are going to have to show that they can handle Arkansas with as little effort as Alabama did.


I just watched an ad for Christina Applegate's show, "Samantha Who?" I've always liked her. She was always a hottie, but best of all she's funny. I hate that she had that double mastectomy earlier this year because of cancer. That has to be rough to go through. I always respected the fact that she never got breast implants. But now she has no choice. Well, hopefully she won't go all Pamela Anderson and get beach balls. I liked her just the way she was.

Speaking of liking a girl just the way she was, Pamela Anderson was gorgeous in the days before she went under the knife. Seriously, have you ever seen the photos of her when she was young and hadn't had anything done to her breasts involving a knife and plastic bags? She was outstanding. Anyway she has a great sense of humor, too, fake boobies or not.

You know who else has great breasts, is great looking, and has a great sense of humor? Jenny McCarthy. I loved her on "2 1/2 Men". I had hoped they'd keep her around on a more long-term basis, but I guess they didn't know quite how to do that. They've never added a permanent new character and I guess they don't want to. I was glad to see Rose come back, though. She had left to go do some other show and that show didn't make it.

Texas just got hit with a big roughing the passer penalty. Apparently Ryan Reynolds, an Oklahoma defensive player, is out with a painful knee injury. He's said to be critical to the Oklahoma defense and partly the reason Texas just scored as quickly as they did. I'm no Oklahoma fan, but I never cheer for anyone to have a serious knee injury. I've had 2 knee surgeries from sports injuries and I don't wish that on anyone.

So anyway, I'm home all alone, as usual. I spend almost every day all alone. When I think about it, it's been that way for the past 10 years, if not longer. I really hate being all alone all the time. I've always hated that. And yet, for reasons I have never understood, my life seems to have been designed to keep me forever isolated. I think if I had the chance I'd party 24 hours a day with as many people as I could find, become an alcoholic, and molest as many hot girls as humanly possible. I should quit my job and open a sports bar.

One thing I have to say, I always hated how in soccer the offensive players would throw themselves to the ground, sometimes kicking the defender to intentionally hurt him and try to knock him down with them, and then scream like a baby for a penalty. Colt McCoy, quarterback for Texas, seems to have played some soccer at some point. He keeps throwing himself to the ground whenever a defender is near him as he's running out of bounds in order to draw a penalty. I hope Texas wins this game, but I have no respect for diving. That's one thing about soccer that I never respected during the years that I played. Diving and crying for a penalty is why soccer will never replace football in the hearts of Americans. That's why the female supremacists are working so hard to destroy football in America and wipe out all male athletics completely. They just couldn't get us to give it up and become a nation of soccer girls so now it all has to go.

OK, Texas fan or not, these refs are making terrible calls that are killing Oklahoma. Along with girlie-men taking dives, another thing that I hate is bad refs. Call it right or get off the field.

Hey, am I the only one who has noticed that in television commercials, billboards, print ads sent in junk mail, ads in magazines, etc, white males are being intentionally and systematically eliminated and replaced with all females and the occasional lone black male thrown in? And in ads for anything related to education, especially colleges, there are NO MALES at all? That is a violation of Title IX, but as everyone knows, the feminists have twisted Title IX into nothing more than a club with which to beat all males right out of school altogether. Our corrupt leaders, selfish sociopaths one and all, have not only permitted them to do this, but actually enabled it, violating their oaths of office and weakening our entire nation in an effort to appease their mothers and the 22-year-old Jewish intern they're sleeping with behind their wife's back.


Now these same sociopaths shake their heads and wonder as Barack Obama's gangster-run political machine, ACORN, runs about the country falsifying voter registrations by the hundreds of thousands in preparation for the largest incident of voter fraud in our nation's history. What did they think was going to happen when they hand-picked a candidate based entirely on race rather than on substance? First they came to Memphis and tried to take our own Harold Ford, Jr to run this race. They courted him for a very long time and had everything well prepared. But then a scandal, something involving massive voter fraud, reared its' ugly head and their candidate was tainted. Then more scandal as his politically correct family was caught in crime after crime, fraud after fraud, with his uncle going to jail for corruption and his aunt going to jail for just being a total fucking lunatic. Poor Harold, he had no scandal of his own to taint him like that, but his family is just so batshit crazy and totally corrupted that the Democrats felt they couldn't risk it. They had to dump him and find someone else. Someone black, of course, because in the PC world of the fanatical religious Marxist elitists who dominate the Democratic Party, nothing else would do.


Sorry Hillary, but the Party Leaders made their minds up long ago and you were just the wrong person at the wrong time. Well, the wrong color person, anyway.

Oh, I see Oklahoma has taken up the practice of taking a dive now, too. It's so bad now that the television announcers are making fun of them and talking about how this pathetic shit belongs on the soccer field, not a football field. Seriously, they are slamming on soccer just like I was doing. And they're right.

Oklahoma just scored a touchdown as a result of their punter taking a big fat dive and drawing a bullshit penalty. No matter how this game ends up, there is nothing respectible about this. There is nothing even remotely macho or fitting of a bunch of cowboys throwing themselves to the ground and crying like babies for a penalty. Hell, this shit is one of the main reasons why I quit soccer.

Anyway, today promises to be a whole lot of nothing.

Did any of you watch "Life On Mars" the other night? It's that new show on ABC about the cop who gets hit by a car and wakes up in 1973. I'm not sure if I'm going to like this one or not. It has potential, but if they don't handle it right it could end up being really hokey. I love the old cars, though.

Have you ever really, really liked someone, maybe even become convinced that you were in love, and when they realized how you felt, or you stupidly said "I love you", they started to slowly shove you out the door, out of their life, waving 'bye bye' politely as you stood out in the hallway watching them slowly close that door on you forever? It's a horrible feeling, isn't it? Your heart just shatters and you feel as if you're going to die. Ah, but you don't die. You just limp home to curl up in a bottle and cry. Then of course you email them to death, saying anything you can think of just to try to get them to talk to you. Things like, "hey, uh, what ya doin'?" They don't reply, of course, but you just keep emailing anyway. Or maybe you text their cell phone, sending short, meaningless messages in the desperate hope that they'll eventually respond. After several months of crawling after them you finally give up. And they're glad to be rid of you.

This is why you should never tell anyone that you love them. Always wait for them to say it first.

Well holy shit! Texas just beat Oklahoma. The odds were totally against them. That was an amazing upset.

So, I've just got the movie "Iron Man" on DVD and I think I may turn off football, take the Chevelle out for a tire-smoking spin, and then settle down by myself to watch the movie and see if I like it. I hear it's pretty good.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Social Chaos

I saw a rabbit as I pulled into work yesterday morning. He was just sitting in the grass, not moving.

All morning I sat at my desk, trying to absorb a million things and feeling like I'm at the bottom of a mountain getting ready to start an enormous climb. I met my youngest sister for lunch. I don't have a clue what we talked about. The day before, I had had lunch with my oldest sister. I don't know what we talked about, either. Lately, I've been doing a lot of that, having conversations and not remembering a single word afterwards.

After work, when I was home changing clothes, my niece called me. "A friend of mine needs to drop something off for me, but I can't be there. So I told her to drop it off with you instead. Is that OK? She'll be there in about 10 minutes." The instant I hung up the phone a car pulled into the driveway.

A woman got out of the car. I had to look at her twice to be sure. I knew her. I knew her from college. I knew her from high school. What the hell is she doing here? I went outside to greet her, still in my bare feet because I had never finished changing.

I stepped out the front door and walked out onto the driveway. When she saw me, most likely with my usual stupid grin on my face, she stopped and looked twice at me with her mouth open. "What are you doing here?" she asked. "You're .... uh ... John, right? Or no, Steve."

"Yeah, close enough," I replied. "I saw you get out and I knew immediately who you were - Judy S****."

Of course I did. I had once had a big crush on her. I couldn't even get close to her in high school, but I'd had a brief chance in college. I blew it, of course. She never had any interest in me in the slightest. And I could see in her eyes even as we stood there that nothing had changed. She looked at me as if I were a rock or a tree, utterly devoid of feelings beyond mild curiosity. I remember those eyes. She never looks away once she turns her attention to you, never blinks, never flinches. She is a laser beam.

She had been a model in high school. She was our version of Kate Moss, hanging out with bikers and being a bad girl, all the while looking like the cover of a Playboy magazine with her incredible genetics. She dropped the guys to their knees with her looks. And sometimes she beat the shit out of them, but that is a whole different story. She was tough and it was no act.

In college she had changed. Whatever she did, she did 100 percent to the very end. In high school she was a biker babe, a model, a drug dealer, and a bad ass motherfucker. In college she was a Christian and a health fanatic. She went around telling groups about her conversion. It was a dramatic story and when I heard it I realized that I had known only half as much about her as I thought I did. I knew about the drugs, but not how deeply into the hard stuff she had gone or about the addiction. But like I said, whatever she did, she did 100 percent. To say that she's intense would be an understatement.

We talked for about 45 minutes as we stood there in the driveway. I was barefooted. She had a baby in the car and looked back every now and then to check on it. She had had a daughter who died at 11 months and it had torn her marriage apart. I knew about the child. But now she is getting a divorce, or so it appears at this point. He's got a girlfriend and he's living with her, so the odds of a reconciliation seem remote. I told her about my situation, as much as there was to tell. Who knows what we're doing? I'm tired of worrying over it. Whatever will be will be. I know that she thought I was hitting on her, leaping on the fact that she is soon to be single as my second chance. But I wasn't. I was looking in her eyes and I could see nothing. She has beautiful eyes, but they tell you everything you need to know. If she wants you, she will have you. She feels nothing for me.

Perhaps that's best.

Two of my oldest friends had appeared across the street while I talked to the beautiful girl from the past. They were waiting on me. We hadn't spoken, but I could see from the way that they were standing that they were waiting on me to come over. So when the beautiful girl finally said she had to go and drove away, I walked over, still barefoot, and said 'hey'.

They wanted to go to Hooters. I told them that a bunch of our old friends may be meeting at a Mexican place in the opposite direction. They said "you can go if you want. We're going to Hooters." Since the plans for the gathering at the Mexican place had never been finalized, I decided to go with them to Hooters. But they were driving separate cars because one of them had to go somewhere afterwards.

I rode with the friend I hadn't seen in the longest amount of time. We talked about an old friend from high school and how his brother had just died unexpectedly. A thousand people showed up and he had stood there wondering how many of them really knew the guy and how many were just there for other reasons. I found myself thinking that he seemed depressed. Or maybe he wasn't depressed. Maybe he was just tired. Then I remembered that I feel the same way. I wonder if people think I'm depressed? I wonder if I am? I don't even know anymore. I guess it doesn't really matter.

At Hooters we found the parking lot full. We ended up parking at a hotel which just happens to be owned by the family of the guy who had recently died. When we walked inside of Hooters it was packed. So we sat way in the back. Our waitress was a beautiful, long-haired brunette named Andrea. My friends already knew her. And she knew them.

I know we're all expected to check out all the girls at Hooters. That's what the uniforms are all about. But I didn't really feel like it. It took me a long time to realize that Andrea was really beautiful. And there was some blonde haired, blue-eyed girl who kept coming around, too. She had 'Pink' written across her ass and wasn't wearing the standard Hooters uniform, but she worked there. She was gorgeous, too, and looked at me with those same emotionless eyes that Judy had. After that, my mind wandered off. There was some fat old man standing out in the parking lot almost the entire time we were eating, talking on his stupid cell phone. Before that, some kid had pulled up on a purple crotch rocket and sat out there smoking and posing. I didn't see the point. Why come to Hooters and stand out in the parking lot? There are no girls out there and they don't have time to look outside and see if any guys are standing around out there striking impressive poses. It's just dumb.

After Hooters, while I was riding home with my other friend, my cell phone rang. "Hey, we're all here at the Mexican place. Sam isn't here yet, but she's coming. Are you coming?"

"OK" I yelled into my phone, which wasn't working right, "I'll be there." My friend, who knows all of the people who were waiting at the Mexican place, said he didn't want to go, so he dropped me at home and I took my truck. I got there late. Sam had just arrived. She stood up and threw her arms around me. She gave me a big hug and kissed me on the face. Somehow I felt awkward for not kissing her back, although I never had before. I was very happy to see her.

The whole group of us talked for hours. Sam is in town for a family crisis. There is nothing she can do, but she wanted to at least be here. It was a long way to fly, all the way from Germany, but she made it. We all had fun. We always have fun. Then the waiter came over to throw us out.
"Wee air closed now," he said in a thick Mexican accent.

"Do you have the time?" Sam asked him as she checked her watch.

"Eet ees after nine and wee air closed," he said.

"That doesn't really answer my question, does it," she replied. "So basically you're not answering my question and you're throwing us out, too, is that it?"

He didn't answer, but seemed a bit put off by her straightforward approach. Apparently he had never met Sam before. He never came back to try to throw us out again. I think we left at 10, one full hour after they had closed.

Everyone was going to the Voodoo Lounge, way downtown. My old guitar teacher was performing there and it was a hopping place to hang out. I couldn't go. I have to work tomorrow. I can't come into work tired and drunk tomorrow. I just can't afford to do that. So we all hugged our goodbyes as we began to go our separate ways. I hugged Sam again and this time we kissed on the lips. That felt much more normal, like that is how good friends are supposed to say goodbye. I hadn't really thought about it. I just did it and it felt right. As I was heading to my truck to drive home, I noticed a card lying on the asphalt next to my door. I picked it up.

It said, "Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy." I smiled and climbed into my truck. I wasn't really looking foward to going home. I just didn't feel that I had any choice.

This morning, as I pulled into work, I saw that rabbit again. He was just sitting there, silently watching me from the green grass.


Thursday, March 27, 2008

Things I Have Learned - part II

When your car has run out of gas, pressing the gas pedal with all of your might still won't make it go.

Steroids can make nice guys mean, small boys big, and star players into legends. But all they can do for Congress is give them something to distract themselves with instead of doing their actual jobs.

Militant dedication to hating religious people is itself a religion.

Large churches are a great place to find scam artists looking for a sucker.

Anything thrown across a room in anger will always hit the most valuable object in the room.

Kittens are made of rubber. If not, they could not possibly survive the things they do.

There is nothing cute or lovable about a used litterbox.

The opposite of Blogging is Good Time Management.

The more means of communication we invent, the less time there is for everything else.

Growing old does not always mean growing up.

It is entirely possible for a person to never 'grow out of' being a stupid, know-it-all punk.

As bad as television distracted the previous generations from getting things done, it was nothing compared to email, the internet, and now text messaging on a cellphone.

Now that we have radios in our cars, email at our desks, televisions in our homes, and cell phones in our pockets, it is possible for a person to live out their entire life without ever once sitting quietly and contemplating deep thoughts.

Never lay an XBox on its' side while the game is in the drive and spinning.

When your underwear starts crushing your balls up against you, it usually means you've gotten fat, although you'll be convinced that all your underwear has just suddenly shrunk.

Live chickens smell like complete shit pretty much all the time.

Cow tipping is real.

A Camaro or Mustang combined with a mullet of any kind is not always a bad sign, but it is often enough to be a good rule of thumb.

Pretty much any car, truck or motorcycle combined with a mullet, aviator sunglasses, a black Dale Earnhardt jacket, and a pair of cowboy boots is like a giant billboard screaming LOSER in flashing neon letters.

If you want to know what a man is really made of, let him get a kidney stone while in church.

Pain makes you stronger, but it can also eliminate all happiness from your life. What good is that?

A man who makes a habit of beating his horse will eventually find himself pinned against the stall, unable to breath, as his horse 'accidently' leans on him for awhile.

It is foolish to discount or understimate a horse's sense of humor. Aside from pinning people against the barn, other horse 'jokes' include scraping riders out of the saddle with low-hanging branches, a well-timed buck that sends the rider tumbling down a hillside, biting a person's ass when their back is turned, and of course the ever-popular but more serious kick-to-the-head.

Cats hate being laughed at more than anything in the world. Dogs don't care if you laugh at them just so long as you're paying attention to them.

Never put a herd of miniature donkeys in a field with a prized bull. They will tear the bull up just out of meanness and you will have one hell of a hard time explaining it to the vet.

Raggedy old pickup trucks rarely caught fire while pulling heavy trailers, even when the load was strong enough to break their transmissions or axles. But new trucks burn frequently, if only because their owners don't the difference between a real truck and the shiny tricked-out toy they've bought.

A sinking boat will literally suck you down with it if you don't get the hell away from it before it goes down completely.

Taking a shit in the lake where you are swimming may seem like a good idea at the time, but sometimes turds float and when they do they will follow you, boat or no, all the way back to camp. Oh, you may think you've lost it. You may think the lake is huge and camp is so far away. But just wait awhile. It will show up.

If you push on a billygoat's horns, he will push back even harder. He won't stop even after you want to let go. If you let go, he will ram you. How fast can you run?

Animals fear men with sticks. Feminists fear men with dicks. City people fear country hicks. Girls fear being left out of cliques.

Many a fool has lost both of their shoes in the mud of a pasture, never to see them again. This is how people today learn why cowboy boots were invented in the first place.

Ostriches may look funny, but they're meaner than hell and can flat out fuck you up.

When a television show about how toilets are made absolutely fascinates you for a solid hour, you are either stoned or in desperate need of a vacation.

Life will kill you eventually. There are no do overs. Every moment matters. Ironically though, life seems longer when you're suffering, yet flies by when you're happy. So it would seem that the key to a long life is to suffer a lot and be unhappy.

Sunday, November 4, 2007

Oddities of the Country Life

It was late and there was nothing on TV. I needed to do some work on My Wife's car out in the driveway. I got my tools and went out to do a quick fix-it.

It was about 8:30 pm, which is actually 9:30 p.m. except for this damn Daylight Savings Time thing that screws with our clocks.

The sky was crystal clear and I could see all the stars overhead. There are no streetlights around here at all. Aside from a few lights on my neighbors' houses and my light on over the garage, it was pitch black out. All around me was dead silent. There is no traffic noise, no sound of revving engines or skidding tires, no stereos blasting or neighbors shouting, no sirens, no passing trains or diesel trucks, no jet airplanes overhead, no sounds of anything but the cold breeze in the trees.

I pulled my wife's car close to the garage so I could use the light from the garage as well as plug in a droplight and a drill. I set up the lights so I could see what I was doing and then I began to drill.

drill

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR - the electric motor howled.

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRR - the drill bit began to eat away as I drilled a hole.

And off in the distance, an unmistakable sound began to rise in the night.

AAAARRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

AAAAAAARRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!



Wolves were howling.



I have a neighbor who one fine day set up a dog pen. Except it was no ordinary dog pen. The fence around it is at least 8 feet high and it is big. There are 2 or 3 different sections, where dogs can be separated from one another.

Inside the pens are big, healthy, gray wolves with big, yellow eyes that stare out at you as if you are a walking piece of steak passing by on a leisurely stroll through their neighborhood. Oh yes, my Sirloin friend, this is their neighborhood, and don't you ever forget it, especially if you happen to look over and notice the gate to the pens left open.

These wolves, with their keen senses, were howling like mad at the sound of my electric drill whining a full street over from them.

howling wolf photo property of Randy Craig Publishing http://www.rcpublishing.com/



This living out in the country is going to take some getting used to.




Quit that drilling!