Rails

I admit it: I have no desire to see the new Star Wars film in the theatre.

Iceland is putting up electric columns that are a bit more visually interesting than what you may be used to.
 

 

The morning my family was readying to leave for vacation, my youngest turned down my request to help finish off the chocolate cake she had made a few days before.
 
Her:  I haven't had breakfast yet.  You can't eat cake for breakfast.
Me:  I have three words for you:  Va-Ca-Tion.  (pause)  And before you point out that is just one word, I'd like to point out that my brain is already on Va-Ca-Tion.

For those of my generation who do not use and cannot comprehend why Facebook exists:
 
I am trying to make friends outside of Facebook while applying the same principles. Therefore, every day I walk down the street and tell passersby what I have eaten, how I feel at the moment, what I have done the night before, what I will do later, and with whom.
 
I give them pictures of my family, my dog, and of me gardening, taking things apart in the garage, watering the lawn, standing in front of landmarks, driving around town, having lunch, and doing what anybody and everybody does every day. I also listen to their conversations, give them the "thumbs up" and tell them I like them.
 
And it works just like Facebook. 
 
I already have four people following me: two police officers, a private investigator, and a psychiatrist.

Archaeologists digging in a pyramid in Egypt have found a mummy covered in chocolate & hazelnuts, and believe it to be Pharaoh Rocher.

But we all knew that.

"Atlas Slugged."

Team Similac. One Formula.

A car sponsored by Oreo cookies. It could be called the Oreo Speedwagon.

A rancher has to leave town for a week and the only person he could find to take care of his cows was his accountant.
 
When the rancher returned he counted his cows and found he had 200. He asked his accountant: "When I left last week I only had 196 cows, but now I have 200."
 
The accountant said: "That's because I rounded them up."

Air Force, Navy, and Marine pilots are officers, but Army pilots are NCOs.  Not that warrant officers are paid badly, but rank is pretty central to the identity of a long-term military officer, and I can't imagine any of them would allow themselves to get busted down to enlisted.  They'd quit first.
 
 
 
There's that, although fighter pilots already have to work out quite a bit--the job is more strenuous than you would think.  However USAF culture is almost corporate, while the USMC is kind of a mix of bros, frats, guns, and testosterone.  Even Marine officers are unusually gung ho about their work.  That's the real culture clash that would occur.

From what I remember, punt guns were generally used for market hunting.  I think they were usually 1-, 2-, or 4- gauge shotguns and were braced against the ground or a support structure in a boat and fired into flocks of waterfowl.  Flock flies off, dead birds are picked up, and the market hunter either reset in the same location or moved on to another spot to repeat the process.
 
Essentially, a small cannon loaded with birdshot.  Nothing sporting about the practice--it was strictly business.

It's a coconut with feet!

Couldn't that be because "continuity" keeps getting ret-conned?

Along these same lines:
 
How To Hunt An Elephant  (by Occupation and/or Job Title)

Broke back Ninja Turtles..

The cheesiest pickup line of all time:
 
 
 

Need me or not, I'm still here.

Need me or not, I'm still here.