You don't expect some teenager in Alabama to be Spider-Man, and yet after the tornado...
For suddenly grief-struck parents like the mother and father of Andrew Jackson, a sturdy 16-year-old weightlifter, there was no consolation in their bewilderment.
"We lost a good man yesterday," said Andrew's father, Tim Jackson, his lip trembling as he stood in the family carport. He said witnesses had told them a heroic story of their son's last moments: Andrew held up a falling concrete beam long enough for another student to escape, then was crushed by it.
Hey! Ferrari-Carano wine now comes with a screw cap. instead of a cork.
I like that!
Aw, poor little tiny Abigail Breslin on Law and Order: SVU.
One of the funniest videos I've seen in a long time--How To Wash a Cat.
And this has mostly likely been posted here before, but I'd never seen it. Shark vs. Octopus.
My plan to drink the all the alcohol from bottles that only have a little bit left, leaving me with fewer bottles to move means I am now quite drunk after finishing off a bottle of Pernod. Next up, (but not tonight) Laphroig.
Andrew held up a falling concrete beam long enough for another student to escape, then was crushed by it.
Fuck. This gets me so badly, right where it hurts most.
Yep, friend still hates me. Apparently "cheerfully right" isn't that attractive a trait in a friend. I wonder how attractive it is in a date, and if that explains anything...
Sue, if you're going to use the alcohol-fueled moving method, it's necessary to lure some friends over with the promise of finishing off the open bottles. Of course, that can also lead to drunken friends packing the cat a few weeks early, but you have to risk something.
My plan to drink the all the alcohol from bottles that only have a little bit left, leaving me with fewer bottles to move means I am now quite drunk after finishing off a bottle of Pernod.
That sounds like a really sound plan. How long before you move?
Happy birthday, Cindy!!
Hippo Birdies, Cindy!!
Things I've Learned Today: When getting to the pool 15 minutes before they open on a Sunday morning, do not then go to the bathroom right before they let you leave the locker room for the pool, because then you'll have to wait 30 minutes before one of the nine people in the four-laned lap pool leaves. What the hell are nine people (actually, ten--one gave up on the wait) doing at the pool at eight damn o'clock on a Sunday morning?!? At least I was smart enough to have a book in my purse, which I went back to get (as well as my glasses) while I waited.
Good thing is that, even though the schedule said that lessons would be starting at 9:00, they actually didn't start until 10, so I was still able to get in 20 laps and 7 minutes of kicking, just like I did on Thursday. I was too tired to improve on that goal, but at least I matched it. The new goggles were a great purchase, since I was able to get my head down while doing the crawl and take four strokes before taking a breath in a manner somewhat close to classic crawl technique. My kicking still sucks, but it always has (it was the despair of my swimming teacher when I was eight).
Then, just as I was going up the steps to leave the pool, I heard "Kathy?" from behind me--one of the two older ladies whom I saw get in the pool after the crowd left at 9:00 was a co-worker! She didn't recognize me while I was swimming, and I couldn't see her face well enough without my glasses to see her features at all. I went over to chat with her and her friend for about 10 minutes before I finally headed over to shower and dress.
Now I'vve eaten breakfast and will get some cleaning done.
