Has Gearhart Chevrolet Discovered Doug Bulna's Sabotage Yet? (1-year!)

[BattleHymn]

one has to recall he's a primitive and can't be hurt like regular people because as a primitive, he has a lower level of sensitivity and consideration.  It's the difference between hitting a person, and hitting a rock.

Nice analogy.   

[Tucker]

I love it that queer obama is still on display.

[franksolich]

I love it that queer obama is still on display.

I couldn't sleep last night, and so finally got up to read a biography of the late King Farouk of Egypt (1920-1965; r. 1936-1952).

I know what was bothering me; there's remarkable similarities in the characters of the brain-damaged primitive and the once-king, most noticeably their insistence on imposing their opinions on everybody else, and ignoring opinions with which they disagree(d).

And among other things, their mutual fatness, their mutual decadence, their mutual negative attitude about other people.

That was King Farouk's undoing--his intolerance for opinions he didn't like--and it could very well be the same fate of the brain-damaged primitive, unless he in a hurry changes himself.

[franksolich]

Well, I'll be.  The resemblence is almost like a father-son thing.

[GOBUCKS]

Well, I'll be.  The resemblence is almost like a father-son thing.

DUmmy Alex would be outraged at such a superficial comparison.

Farouk had two eyes, died a young man, but lived a life of unimaginable luxury.

Doug bought one of his eyes at WalMart, and is still living a long, pointless, dreary life.

[JohnnyReb]

How many DUmmies have college degrees from Farouk U.?

[franksolich]

Hmmmm.

One sees from the New York City newspapers that the brain-damaged primitive's got some lousy weather coming; I hope this doesn't darken his mood at that time when he needs to be the most confident, the most optimistic, the most positive-thinking.

The Sandhills of Nebraska, today:

[franksolich]

How many DUmmies have college degrees from Farouk U.?

I'm starting to wonder if maybe the brain-damaged primitive's the long-lost son of the late King Farouk, and since Farouk never abdicated, in name at least the brain-damaged primitive might be the true king of Egypt and Sudan.

The dates are credible, and the resemblence, as said before, is uncanny.

[AllosaursRus]

Okay, while sleeping last night, I thought of something else that might be of Great Benefit for the brain-damaged primitive in turning his life around.

During the 1920s, there was a fad called the "Coue Method," in which people repeated several times a day, either out loud or to themselves silently, "Every day in every way I'm getting better and better."

It sort of worked, I guess, because it was auto-suggesting to the subconscious, making the wish become reality.

I dunno why it's not done these days, but it wouldn't hurt for the brain-damaged primitive to at least try it.

Sounds like that fool on SNL that boasted every week, "and everybody likes me".

[franksolich]

Sounds like that fool on SNL that boasted every week, "and everybody likes me".

Yeah, the Coue Method's been the butt of jokes for nearly a hundred years now; I'm convinced it's of some psychological value, but obviously it's not a single cure-all for what ails the brain-damaged primitive.

It wouldn't hurt him to try it, though.

Along with all these other handy-dandy self-improvement ideas I've given him here.

I was over in another town today, and picked up another anecdote about the guy who sold all those old cars in Pierce two weeks ago.  He closed his Chevrolet dealership in 1996, when he was 79 years old, after having been fifty years in the business.  I suspect the death of the mechanic (who lived out on the farm where the unsold vehicles were kept) was probably the final straw, as they were a very close-knit clan.

He and his wife are still around, though; he's now 96, and she's three, four, years younger, and they still live in a house he built back in the late 1940s, directly across the street from the dealership.

Apparently he did sell stuff after he closed the business down; I spoke with a guy who, about ten years ago and just out of high school, who bought something from him.  This guy was giving a try at having an automobile-restoring business, and needed a particular part (he doesn't do that any more, having gone into a more steady line of business).

The old man told him yeah, he had the part, and yes, he'd sell it.  So this guy and his partner went to the garage, while the old guy and his wife walked in from across the street.

"It was weird; when we went inside, he kept saying 'don't touch anything, don't touch anything,' and the two of them stuck with us as if we were glued.

"There was a big hole in the roof right over a Corvette, that'd been there for a while, and all the rain and snow had drilled a hole through the roof of the car.

"He took my partner to get the part, and his wife stuck right by me, to be sure I didn't touch anything.

"And then just out of thin air, she told me about her wedding back in 1946; that because of the war, white linen wasn't available, and so she had to use brown linen for her bridal gown.  'Even though I couldn't wear white, I was pure when I was married,' she said.

"I dunno what prompted her to say that....."

[Dori]

"And then just out of thin air, she told me about her wedding back in 1946; that because of the war, white linen wasn't available, and so she had to use brown linen for her bridal gown.  'Even though I couldn't wear white, I was pure when I was married,' she said.

"I dunno what prompted her to say that....."

That's funny.  Looking at old photos of family members' weddings, an awful lot of women wore suits and were married by the "justice of the peace" at city hall.

I only saw one pic of a bride in white and that was held in a private home. 

 

[obumazombie]

Sounds like that fool on SNL that boasted every week, "and everybody likes me".

Do you mean...

http://www.conservativecave.com/index.php/topic,90314.0/msg,1140191.html

[franksolich]

Well, one notices that after having storms yesterday (Thursday), apparently the weather's good again in urban northern New Jersey.  One hopes that for some exercise, the brain-damaged primitive is walking around his neighborhood, tipping his hat to ladies, smiling at small children, talking shop with guys so as to get leads on possible jobs.

The skies are clear and it's sunny out here on the roof of Nebraska, but we have high winds, with gusts sometimes as high as 60 mph.

When out on the highway earlier, I again noticed the advantage of driving low-slung automobiles; at times, I was about the only person who could stay on the road.

^^^around the business partner's neck of the woods



^^^the other side of the river from franksolich's place, far to the east of the other two photographs

[Tucker]

It's awful brown and dingy there Frank. Winter is coming.

[franksolich]

It's awful brown and dingy there Frank. Winter is coming.

Brown of course, but not dingy.

I see this morning, from the "severe weather map," that urban northern New Jersey is destined to have another fine day in autumn, just as I remember it.  The two years I lived in Fairlawn, autumn was my favorite time of the year.

Winters in New Jersey, forget it.  Even the socialist paradises of the workers and peasants never got that bone-chilling cold.

One wonders what the brain-damaged primitive has planned for the day; one hopes it includes donning a wind-breaker and going out to spread some sunshine in his neighborhood.  It'd be good for him and his attitude, forcing himself to be cheery in difficult circumstances. 

Speaking of cold, it was 43 degrees out here in the middle of nowhere, when the neighbor came by circa 5:00 a.m., finding me out on the back porch having a cigarette and a cup of coffee, and watching the birds down by the river.  "God, man, it's cold, is there anything you can't stand?"

It's supposed to be in the high 60s here the next couple of days, and then the annual autumnal drizzles start, signalling the end of Indian summer.  Soon, 43 degrees will be considered "warm."

[Tucker]

Did you ever wonder why the marxist liberals like the cold, northeastern region? I think that they empathize with their kinfolk that lived/lives in Siberia.

[franksolich]

Well, the accuweather "severe weather map" doesn't seem to be working this morning, so one can't tell what kind of day today, Sunday, is going to be in urban northern New Jersey, but one hopes it's a pleasant autumn day for the brain-damaged primitive.

Nothing like a good autumn day to lift the spirits, to motivate one.

Maybe after church this morning, the brain-damaged primitive should go down to the corner drugstore and sit in a booth with other guys, having coffee and picking up job-search tips from them.  The brain-damaged primitive may be an old dog, but even an old dog can always learn new tricks.

I looked in alarm at the radar map for this area, the eastern foothills of the Sandhills of Nebraska, seeing us covered in deep white, a vast area, which usually signifies "snow."  Not that we're not ready for snow, but there'd been no clue in the forecasts last night.

It turns out it was just a "freeze warning," the first frost of the year.

^^^not me, not here; just a generic photograph of the Sandhills in autumn

Yesterday afternoon, I looked at some old National Geographic hard-cover pictorial books of various areas of the country, these from the late 1960s and early 1970s, which were popular in their time and sold by mail-order for circa four bucks apiece.  National Geographic put out a lot of these books, but it escapes me that while they covered rustic Connecticut or suburban Maryland pretty well, they don't appear to have ever covered the Sandhills of Nebraska.

But whatever.

National Geographic has always been famous for its photography, not only of landscapes and natural wonders, but of common people.  People are more my thing than scenery, and so I concentrated on those photographs.....and was struck by something that dosn't bode well.

People back in the late 1960s and early 1970s were thin; a fat person was a rarity.  Those of Oriental derivation have always tended to be slender, and still do.  But in comparison with yesterday's white people and black people, man, people these days are fat.

There were a few fat white people, usually old women, and there were no fat black people, back then.

My, my, how times have changed.

Before I go any further, I must mention this is not a negative commentary about decent and civilized people who happen to be overweight these days.  I'm aware some members of conservativecave in real life might have some surplus poundage, but I don't see them that way.  I see only beautiful people here.

Myself, forty years ago, I wouldn've been considered "average," with a good football-playing physique (for the time); nowadays, I'm considered frail and thin and underfed and not fit for playing anything but poker.

It scares me, that there's not a single primitive on Skins's island who couldn't beat franksolich to a pulp, if they wished to.  I have a good five inches on the brain-damaged primitive, but he's got a good--if cameras don't lie--eighty pounds or more on me.

Even Atman, the biggest sissy and girly-boy on Skins's island, who's about three inches shorter than me but with circa sixty pounds more bulk, could pound franksolich into a little red spot in the dirt, if he wanted to.

That's a particular humiliation for me, being the only person Atman could beat up.

Yikes.

[franksolich]

Well, here it is, Monday morning, and one wonders how things are going, 1500 miles straight east from the eastern foothills of the Sandhills of Nebraska.

We had torrential downpours--temperatures in the high 30s, low 40s--all night long, more reminiscent of spring than of autumn.  In autumn in the Sandhills, it's more common to have drizzles, not deluges.

This thread, and Tucker's thread, had oodles of "guests" with ISP (internet service provider) numbers emanating from urban northern New Jersey this past weekend; one supposes one of them was the brain-damaged primitive, and at least two or three of them former co-workers of his.

But I'm starting to get disturbed about something.

The brain-damaged primitive was not--er, is not--in good health, burdened with all sorts of ailments and afflictions, and monstrous amounts of fat.  It wouldn't take much for him to slip and fall into a burying-hole.

One of course hopes that's not the case, but it could be the case.

I'm kind of worried we might have a repeat of when grouchy old Don's daughter in Illinois signed on to Skins's island using her father's account there, to make a most dread announcement.

After which one can almost hear the addled pie-and-jam primitive, "grasswire," droning out in her high-pitched old lady's voice, "freeperskilledDougiefreeperskilledDougiefreeperskilledDougie....."

<<<speaking from experience here.

I repeat, one hopes that's not the case, but the longer the brain-damaged primitive remains out of sight, the more and more likely it could be the case.

[GOBUCKS]

The problem is, there's no indication that anyone on earth cares enough about Doug to report his demise. We have to depend on someone noticing an obit in a local New Jersey paper. And it would be a tiny, bare bones death notice, since no one would care to pay for one of the flowery kinds that list up all the deceased's accomplishments and awards and such. Come to think of it, in Doug's case it would still be pretty tiny and bare bones. One wouldn't want to mention his trademarking of "Jizz", nor his wallduding infamy, and there's not much else of note in his life.

[franksolich]

The problem is, there's no indication that anyone on earth cares enough about Doug to report his demise. We have to depend on someone noticing an obit in a local New Jersey paper. And it would be a tiny, bare bones death notice, since no one would care to pay for one of the flowery kinds that list up all the deceased's accomplishments and awards and such. Come to think of it, in Doug's case it would still be pretty tiny and bare bones. One wouldn't want to mention his trademarking of "Jizz", nor his wallduding infamy, and there's not much else of note in his life.

Well, I'm sure if it were to happen, we'd sooner or later know about it.

The primitives leak like a sieve.

The brain-damaged primitive has an adult daughter with whom he's very close, and she lives nearby, I think just over the border in Pennsylvania.  He dumped his loving caring wife years ago because he didn't like hearing opinions contrary to his own. 

He was posting from his daughter's place during that hurricane that 0bozo ignored just before the elections last year, and so I'm sure she's aware of this vice of his.

[GOBUCKS]

It would be a lot easier if that worthless DUmbass Elad would get off his lazy ass and put up that Dead DUmmy forum. It would make it easier for us to mourn the passing of favorite DUmmies.

And it seems to me that someone like our pal Doug Bulna should not have to wait for the grave to find some special recognition at the DUmp. While Elad develops the Dead DUmmy forum, he should at the same time put together another group, maybe a subforum of Dead DUmmy, where wallduded DUmbasses could be recognized.

Whether decent people assist in the downfall or not, whenever a DUmbass loses his job due to his hateful, stupid, moonbat mouth, he could be recognized in the Walldude forum.

[franksolich]

Well, we got a lot of rain here yesterday, at least 6" right here (the rain-gauge overflowed); one hopes the weather in urban northern New Jersey was more clement, allowing the brain-damaged primitive to simply grab and wear a nylon wind-breaker as he hit the sidewalks looking for a job.

But oh my, the damage wrought in the western foothills of the Sandhills, dutch508's stomping-grounds.  I had no idea; tens of thousands of cattle perished, because they hadn't had time yet to grow their winter coats, and there was all that snow, tons of snow.  If anyone's a beef lover, expect higher prices soon, because we're talking a major proportion of the national cattle crop here.

The snow never got over here to the eastern foothills--just tons of rain--because bad weather can't cross over the Sandhills, the most formidable, the most daunting, the most challenging, natural barrier in the whole western hemisphere.  Bad weather in dutch508's part hits a wall and shatters apart trying to get through the Sandhills, and so all we get are scraps, fragments, of it.

My condolences to dutch508; I had no idea, as I'm not a television person.

Oh, and white healing light, and as soon as I can scan them, a picture of my hands too.

- - - - - - - - - - -

After thinking about a certain possible potential, uh, event, yesterday I sat down and wrote a memorial thread to the brain-damaged primitive, to be launched as soon as word is received.

Now, I'm not saying the brain-damaged primitive is no longer among us in this time and place; what I am saying is that, given his long absence from Skins's island, there's a likelihood a certain sad event has transpired, and so best to be prepared, in case it did.

The brain-damaged primitive always impressed me as someone with a short fuse, a hot temper, and I can very well see there's probably a chance--maybe a 20% chance, a 25% chance--that he had to listen to something he didn't want to hear, which caused his face to redden, the blood-vessels in his head to stick out and throb, his blood-pressure soaring to the stratosphere.  And then suddenly the overburdened veins feeding his brain burst, and him dropping lifeless in an apoplexic fit.

Remember, I'm not saying that happened; all I'm saying is there's a possibility that happened, thus explaining his absence.

So I wrote a memorial thread to him; it's all ready to be launched if events demand it.

- - - - - - - - - -

When the big guy in Bellevue's maternal ancestress died a year and a half ago, I was caught off guard, it being totally unexpected.  I hurriedly wrote a memorial thread to her, and while it was okay, it wasn't nearly as good as what she deserved, having been such a saint, and burdened with such a worthless son.

(And it was worse than that; she died with little money, and the big guy and his older sister had to bear the funeral expenses.  With what the big guy had to offer, she would've barely been able to be put into a wicker basket and buried in the paupers' corner of the cemetery.  But fortunately the big guy's older sister, possessive of a good mind, a good reputation, and a good job--a decent and civilized person all around--by herself had the means to give the poor old woman a decent funeral.)

And just a month ago, we were startled by the unexpected death of grouchy old Don over there in Illinois.  Grouchy old Don had been a popular primitive, but I was so deligh--er, deluged with grief about the news that I wasn't composed enough to write a memorial to him.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Well, I have now decided to pre-write memorials to primitives of prominence, so that when a certain inevitable event happens to one of them, it's immediately all set to go.  I've been doing this for a few days now, and yesterday I wrote the one for the brain-damaged primitive.

My favorite literary effort thus far is the memorial to the defrocked warped primitive, she with the face like Hindenberg's.  It's a wonderful piece of literary exposition, extolling "warpy."

However, despite its wonderfulness, that might've been wasted effort.  It's true that Ms. Hindenberg is old and franksolich is not, but she may outlive me, much in the same sense that grouchy old mean rattlesnakes tend to live almost forever.  It's a good piece, but the defrocked warped primitive has to be deceased before it can be launched.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Now, this may sound ghoulish and macabre, but it's nothing of that sort.

For decades, at least since the 1870s, newspapers have pre-written obituaries of prominent people, so that when someone dies, it's all ready for the presses.  I'm sure that many might remember instances where a newspaper published an obituary prematurely, but generally they don't.

It saves a lot of time and trouble, having an obituary pre-written.

This is the same sort of thing; it's not ghoulish or macabre.

It's simply called "being prepared."

[dutch508]

Thanks, Frank.
I worked during the storm, of course. We got between 5 and 10 inches in town- very wet haevy snow. We were lucky that no one lost power and only a few trees came down. We were on the very east edge of the big snow. Further to the west, in my cousin Mick's hometown, they got 18 to 24 inches of snow- power out all over the county, hundreds of trees damaged, cattle dead, etc.
In the Black Hills, in Deadwood South Dakota, they got 30+ inches of snow. The power is still not on in many places and hundreds if not thousands of cattle dead. AND- today it is snowing again.
The old timers have been saying we are due a hard winter. We may just be.

[JohnnyReb]

Thanks, Frank.
I worked during the storm, of course. We got between 5 and 10 inches in town- very wet haevy snow. We were lucky that no one lost power and only a few trees came down. We were on the very east edge of the big snow. Further to the west, in my cousin Mick's hometown, they got 18 to 24 inches of snow- power out all over the county, hundreds of trees damaged, cattle dead, etc.
In the Black Hills, in Deadwood South Dakota, they got 30+ inches of snow. The power is still not on in many places and hundreds if not thousands of cattle dead. AND- today it is snowing again.
The old timers have been saying we are due a hard winter. We may just be.

We had a rather warm winter, a cold wet spring and a cooler and wetter summer than normal and right now it's very dry and cooling down a bit. So, I too am looking to have a bitter winter with maybe some large wet snows. It's about time for another bad winter storm here.

[BlueStateSaint]

We had a rather warm winter, a cold wet spring and a cooler and wetter summer than normal and right now it's very dry and cooling down a bit. So, I too am looking to have a bitter winter with maybe some large wet snows. It's about time for another bad winter storm here.

My parents were commenting on the 'wooly bears' (a caterpillar that has fur on it--supposedly, the color of the fur is the indicator of a severe winter, not the length of said fur) they had seen last weekend, at a combined family birthday party on Sunday.  They said that the things were really dark this year.  Winter is supposed to suck here.