T1B

Make your time, motherfucker. Next time it will be your LIFE.

All I want is a cortisone shot in each shoulder

:slaver

--rts

Grass Clippings wrote:Make your time, motherfucker. Next time it will be your LIFE.

I laughed.


BTW, I always cut my grass at 2"

Rough go, Sam.


This is where I'd like to chime in make you feel better by telling you about the time I did something even more m0r0nic than what you did ... but I never have.

Your current pain level is exceeded only by your stupidity level. haha



Just yankin' ya, old timer.

I hope your neck isn't totally fried, and get well soon.

Grass Clippings wrote:Make your time, motherfucker. Next time it will be your LIFE.

Bwa - Rack the timely troll.

Good luck, Sam. At least you're still able to pound a keyboard.

Charles De Mar wrote:BTW, I always cut my grass at 2"

Must be handy having the gauge right between your legs.

IS this why the Army kicked you out for violating the don't ask don't tell. Since we all know five minutes after this pic you were in an alley sucking off Tyrone.

Jsc810 wrote:Damn, my bad. You never made it all the way to corporal.



http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_Sta ... k_insignia" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;

Looks to me like a Corporal and a Specialist are both E-4 pay grade.

Sam:

Sorry to hear the story. Reminded me of a time when I was clearing snow off sidewalks with a fricken Bobcat. To the right of the sidewalk was a steep slope, which I couldn't see under the foot of snow. I drove off the edge of the sidewalk and felt the whole damn machine start to tip. My boss had removed the canopy for some reason so tipping over would have meant being crushed to death. I swiveled the Bobcat hard to the right, drove down the hill and crashed through a rail fence. It was a scene worthy of any Laurel and Hardy movie.

And here is a tip from Crazyland: Go to Sam's Club in the pharmacy secton and buy a bottle of mangosteen juice. It's expensive, about $15.00 a bottle, but all you need is 1 oz a day. Mix it with O.J.

I know it sounds nuts, but there is something in this stuff with anti-inflammatory properties and it helped my aching joints.

Hope you heal up and get back on the cycle ASAP.

Good luck, Sam. I had rotator cuff surgery a year ago. Nice lengthy rehab.

It was my understanding that the immobilization was mandatory. Yes, I remember sleeping on my back for weeks with that sling strapped to my waist. Mine was done by a specialist from UW Sports Medicine, the same guy who put Alando Tucker’s foot back together.

Uncle Fester wrote: mangosteen

I thought he was some weird-ass Swedish guitar player or something.

Goober McTuber wrote:

Charles De Mar wrote:BTW, I always cut my grass at 2"

Must be handy having the gauge right between your legs.

You say that like you dont have a 'gauge'....that's ok, little camper, Pickles still thinks your hot.

Charles De Mar wrote:

Goober McTuber wrote:

Charles De Mar wrote:BTW, I always cut my grass at 2"

Must be handy having the gauge right between your legs.

You say that like you dont have a 'gauge'....

Good point. Here’s a recent photo of my yard:

Goober McTuber wrote: Good point. Here’s a recent photo of my yard:

^June/July 2004.
Deer Lake, Burnaby, British Columbia, Canada, Earth.
Yeah, probably not....but lets do a little math thingy here.

How tall are you? If the grass is up to your head....see how you lose the effect your going after.

Are you really this fuckin stupid on a daily basis?

So we're down to researching pics when someone tries to make a funnay now?

Jeebus, Charles, who made you the fun police?

Empathy over here, Boss.

Except it's not a rotator cuff (never injured one of those badly... but I'm sure I will), it's a pinched lumbar nerve. Stove up something fierce. Excruciating.

And it gets worse -- not only am I saddled with some pretty intense pain, but I've now got a slumpbuster with some serious raging hormones wanting a slice of that sweet sweet Dinslove. Probably not a good idea. See, if I do an imitation of a missionary and hop on top, and overplay the run by stacking eight in the box, it's likely her throes-of-ecstasy spasm would result in some pretty painful sciatic spasms on my end. If I just lay on my back and let her rumpleride the stone pony, Im fearful that permanent spinal damage could result.

Maybe she'll just blow me while I watch hoops? I doubt it -- she'll want the cave spelunked, I'm sure. I'm a smoooove talker, so maybe I can negotiate a compromise and have her blow me while I diddle her with a dildo duct-taped to my new cane... I dunno.


We will see how it goes. And by "we," I of course mean "me," and the rest of you can wallow in the mystery of what I did with my peepee over the weekend... unless something really gnarly happens, like she craps on my cack and licks it off or something. Then I might share.

mvs,

I thought the a specialist meant that he was some sort of technician as opposed to a corporal who is a babykiller infantryman.

Wouldn't they both be considered non-coms?

My yard has a few steep spots and I have had the front wheels of my rider about 2 feet in the air going up it. Fortunately the rear bagger makes a respectable wheelie bar.

Dinsdale wrote:Empathy over here, Boss.

Except it's not a rotator cuff (never injured one of those badly... but I'm sure I will), it's a pinched lumbar nerve. Stove up something fierce. Excruciating.

And it gets worse -- not only am I saddled with some pretty intense pain, but I've now got a slumpbuster with some serious raging hormones wanting a slice of that sweet sweet Dinslove. Probably not a good idea. See, if I do an imitation of a missionary and hop on top, and overplay the run by stacking eight in the box, it's likely her throes-of-ecstasy spasm would result in some pretty painful sciatic spasms on my end. If I just lay on my back and let her rumpleride the stone pony, Im fearful that permanent spinal damage could result.

Maybe she'll just blow me while I watch hoops? I doubt it -- she'll want the cave spelunked, I'm sure. I'm a smoooove talker, so maybe I can negotiate a compromise and have her blow me while I diddle her with a dildo duct-taped to my new cane... I dunno.


We will see how it goes. And by "we," I of course mean "me," and the rest of you can wallow in the mystery of what I did with my peepee over the weekend... unless something really gnarly happens, like she craps on my cack and licks it off or something. Then I might share.

fearfully rackable

I tried to warn you.

Sin,
Rack Fu

I mustered out of the US Army in '66 at Spec 4 ("Speedie-4") E-4. Never kept me out of the NCO Clubs.
Yes--- "Specialists" are like the "Techs" in the WW2/Korea eras. We got the same pay as a Corporal which was around $102 a month.

Back on topic---I hope you recover fully Sam and get back on your bike for more "Travels With Sam" PETS.

Shit, get better, Sam

So, submit an RFP and our people will contact you.

mvscal wrote:

Sudden Sam wrote: Yeah, I'm gonna sue 'cause I'm a dumbass. That should fly.

Sure it would. Happens all the time.

Yeah, whatever dude.

Sheesh... next thing you know, you'll probably try to tell us that coffee is served hot or something.

mvscal wrote:

Sudden Sam wrote: Yeah, I'm gonna sue 'cause I'm a dumbass. That should fly.

Sure it would. Happens all the time.

The fact that she would not only allow a dangerously steep slope to remain on her property in an area that required regular mowing AND allowed someone other than herself to mow that part of the yard while knowing of the risks involved, shows clear gross negligence on her part.

I suggest you call Larry H. Parker immediately.

OCmike wrote:The fact that she would not only allow a dangerously steep slope to remain on her property in an area that required regular mowing...

'Round these parts, in the very early and very late parts of the mowing season (like now, for example), we call those spots "quicksand." And this is why we have these things called "flowerbeds," and we cover them with "barkdust."


Stay smart, South.

Sudden Sam wrote:
It ain't my yard.

Stay smart, South.

S-Sam,

You seem to be a bit like my husband, able to take long, wonderful and challenging trips on a motorcycle with no qualms and only minor mishaps...but then do really stupid things on smaller lawn and garden vehicles.

When we lived out in the boonies, I came home one day to a note on the garage door reading, "If you want a good laugh, go to the far bridge". We had an acreage in the woods where we had some spring fed creeks and really sandy soil, so the creek bank slopes were very steep, and fairly deep for the amount of water going through. The "far bridge" was a walking bridge for our trails, almost a quarter mile from our house and with the creekbed about 15 feet below the top of the slope. I read the note and walked back to the far bridge and found my husband trying to figure out how to get our riding mower out of the creekbed. After a few moments, I got the story that he was mowing the trails we had through the woods and was at the top and close to the edge...then figured out that some sticks were under the brake pedal and while going straight for the edge, he found out that he couldn't stop, so he bailed off and the mower ended up at the bottom.

In an entertaining afternoon, we hooked a 'come along' to a tree and hoisted the riding mower 15' back up out of the creek. It had a bit of re-shaping that occurred during the fall that we decided to call 'aesthetic enhancements', but it still ran and mowed just fine.

I would say just stick to the big bike, but I know better :). Good luck on the injury rehab.

How are you feeling, Sam? Hope you are on the mend. Be careful with those pain meds....

Yesterday I had a dental thing. Needed a root canal but settled for just a crown (fearing another dental "specialist" might just be worse than the pain, and eventually the pain would just go away on its own, so why bother). As it turns out, I was wrong. When the shots wore off, the pain set in. Well over my threshold for dental pain, I called the CandyMan (i.e., friend with Meds). She brings a zip lock of 500 mg hydrocodone & I take 2. On an empty stomach. And the lights went out.

Queue trippy acid-like dream sequence of flying unicorns with dumbo-like ears, and basketballs with people's faces (talking, of course), and a flying pterodactyl eating the basketballs. 5 hours later I wake up in a fog that lasted the entire evening.

Never again.

Sudden Sam wrote:Imust be better. Rode the bike for three hours this morning and feel great. Almost back to normal.

It's amazing what ills are cured while riding. Both my shoulders are sore, but I never notice them when I'm riding.