It is all about square footage.

This photo is of a fractional rig sloop, who some believe to be superior to a mast head rig. By using a fractional rig, you are able to rack the mast further aft, which allows a performance advantage in some conditions. To weather, you can make the sails flatter...which equates to speed. The large mainsail provides most of the power...upwind and downwind. The smaller head sail is easier to control for a smaller crew. On reaches, the spinnaker and bloopers are smaller, so you don't get the power or square footage of a masthead rig.

I prefer a masthead rig...takes more people to drive, but when you get it right...ain't nothing like it. Downwind, a masthead sloop with a Tri-radial spinnaker, and a nice Blooper are hard to beat. The thrill of getting the boat balanced is worth it, although, rounding marks can be very interesting. I'm telling you from experience...you can get your ass killed being a foredeck monkey on a nice boat in a good blow. Stuff happens fast...really really fast.

I started out as a sewer rat...moved to foredeck cat, and then to a trimmer. My decision...moved back (forward) to the foredeck because that it what I'm best at. Although, I can trim with the best...the fordeck is where the action is.

No good foredeck monkey...no win races.

I can also handle driving, but I yell at everyone too much because they're not doing it exactly like I would.

I can tie bunny knots and pack sails like you wouldn't believe.

Racing sailboats is a passion of mine.

I miss it....

This is on my short list...

"A test of will, courage and skill against the best (or more accurately, worst) nature has to offer." would be accurate. "The ultimate sailing adventure." would also be accurate.

I've followed these races since the early 70's. This is the Catdaddy of all. I would suspect you would be a changed person if you crossed the finish line.

This is not the America's Cup, where money determines how fast you can make it around a short triangular course.

This is about life...endurance, stamina, will, trust, and brotherhood.

Over Twenty Eight Thousand miles is a hell of a long race. Many things can happen.

This could be, in my opinion, the ultimate test of character. I would do it in a second.

Just my opinion.

This would be just about getting down with one of my favorite boats

In this photograph, they're obviously tight to weather, which is a smooth ride...but when you get her on a broad reach with a tri-radial spinnaker up...you'll be cooking with gas, so to say.

Of course, I do loves me a tight reach with a starcut...

Everything depends on the trim.

Awesome piece of the good times.

It takes a bunch of "like minded" people to drive one of these...but when you get in the groove...you are in the groove.

I need a helmet because it has been raining Acorns. They are falling so fast is it just plain dangerous to venture into my backyard. I must have a hundred thousand of them, or so. The year before last, I raked 'em and filled five, forty gallon garbage cans.

This year...I say fuck it!...they stay as they lay.

I was outside the other evening, enjoying a nice cigar and a glass of wine...Ka-Bamn...wine glass explodes. Direct hit from a fucking Acorn.

I kid you not...

His doctors tell me he has the perfect physique. They also tell me he has the best disposition of any Dachshund they know. My dog Stretch has everyone fooled, but I will say, he can back down the big ass chocolate Lab that lives behind us every time. He is fearless, and on my side...which is a good thing. I'm serious, he takes on dogs that out weigh him ten or twenty times...and will not back off.

German Engineered.

This little Rascal is fearless, but really smart. I pay close attention to his shenanigans, and he works it out. He remembers...he learns..and he is as stubborn as anyone can be. He can also dig a hole as deep as he is long in no time.

I've not had to shoot any squirrels, rabbits, or snakes in a while. I think I'm going to get him a buddy, but I really don't know if I could handle two of 'em.

He is one bad-ass ride.

I very rarely post comments I receive. Hell, I don't get many, but this guy nailed it in response to this post. He also takes some mighty fine photographs.

Click on the Red...it's below the fold.

I've lost EVERYTHING in a fire before. I know several others who have as well. Truly some Bad Bad Juju, but if you can get though it...you will be a better person.

I really don't give a fuck if California falls into the sea...fuck the political left (coast), but I feel for all those people who have lost everything, or are about to experience the ultimate loss. When you lose all your stuff, everything, it can be traumatic.

Right, Wrong, or Indifferent...you will lose some memories related to physical stuff...but you will remember that one most important thing later on...years later.

It will make you cry.

They are saying that this is the largest evacuation of people in U.S. history..since the Civil War...

Whoa...Damn...

I wish there was something I could do to help, but I can't.

I wonder if other nations will come to our aid? Like we always do under the same circumstances...I think not.

Fuck 'em all...

People, we stand alone, but hopefully we stand together...just so Hillary Clinton ain't in the mix.

Fuck that bitch.

This was not intended to be a political post...but I will tell you...if we elect a Democrat next time around...we're all fucked. Your children will be more fucked then us.

Just a thought!

...The man driven by his demons is the easiest of all to lead or corrupt through his desperation. The man content with himself and his world is least likely to succumb to temptation. Threaten the latter with that which he holds most dear and he will bend...

Domino senses and understands something of antitheses or mutual correlations in human perceptions going on...dual concepts...so to say.

Nothing is black and white. It is much more complicated.

I grew up with this guy...we went to the same church...chased the same girls...and, did other things I can't and won't post about. He's all about jamming. Always has been.

He's the one wearing the Helen shirt and shorts.

If I'm not mistaken, that's the same Les Paul he's been playing forever.

I have a call in to verify.

Anyway, the stories I could tell...

I always wanted him to say Fuck...if you know what I mean. To be honest, so did the girls.

Back then...this was some naughty stuff. Nobody ever mentioned fucking your girl all kind of ways...but everybody did, or wanted to.

Long Live the Kingsmen!!!

This all started about a year ago when the Shovel Boy went a little ballistic.

You do not want to fuck with Eric when he's been drinking, or wakes up still drunk. Trust me on this. Danger...Danger

Elisson is responsible for taking and photoshopping this picture. Thank you.

From left to right...that would be those who were in danger of getting the shit beat out of 'em with a shovel, or shot, or stabbed.

It wasn't, "say cheese", but it was, "who fucked up my wife"

I was talking to Joan of Argghh, and she was saying her fingers were really sore from playing so much guitar. I told her she "could take the pain...only one more show to go", or something like that, and she replied... "don't tell me about pain, I'm married to him", or something like that.

Thing is...Pain is a damn good guy...and he heard this conversation...I think.

Bwahahahahahah!!!

Anyway, this is for you Joan Pretty Fucked Up

Anyone remember D.B. Cooper. He was the first person to ever parachute out of a Boeing 727. Great story, and no one got hurt.

Whoever he was...he had some major balls.

You can refresh your memory here.

Years later, they found some of the cash, and some technical documents from the plane...but no body. Was this intentional?

In 1971, the perverse side of me hoped he got away with it. I can remember sitting around with my buddies, and we were thinking..."what a great plan".. There is no better place to get lost than the Pacific Northwest. Been out in the woods there many times. He had to have an accomplice on the ground with whom he could contact.

Even in 1971, I would've asked for more money. 200 grand was some major folding money back then, but I would've asked for more. Shoot for the moon...because this was a one time deal.

Anyway, I realize he could've been eaten by wild animals, but animals don't eat parachutes. The authorities found nothing...no evidence at all...until, years later, some kid found some of the money.

It is truly a mystery.

I do loves me a nice operating system. I'm going to fire this up in a few days, and you will, no doubt, be hearing more about how and why I think Windows sucks.

I've had some time to play with, and get under the hood, with my new iMac today, and I must say...it is a whole different ballgame. The Mac operating system is basically the Catdaddy GUI built on top of *NIX. How much can you do at once? All you want or could ever need is there. Kind of like a good woman.

vi is there. As most of you know, no vi...no deal.

While I was at it, I snagged a 850 GB external backup hard drive...only for backup...to use with Apple Time Machine. Snapshots on the fly. Why not? CD's and Memory Sticks are good for the small stuff (like moving stuff to a laptop for travel), but if you have to depend on 'em for a restore...you're fucked. I know, I know, I know,,,you can FTP or SFTP all that data between machines, but that is a pain in the ass, and the times they are a changing.

I never thought I would say this...but I'm down with Apple. The connectivity to remote *NIX databases is slick.

MAC OS is so far superior to Windows...it ain't even funny. Plus, the damn thing boots in 15 seconds. I kid you not. You can also run Windows inside OS X...virtual machine...no dual boot nonsense...SWEET!

I'm telling you, this iMac stuff is pretty cool.

Dashboard Widgets make life easier...

My Bitch snapped this (inbound) as we were passing by doing about 100 mph. I have no idea what happened to the power lines and fence. Could've been a warning of things to come...memory gaps, or something. Hell if I know.

View image

Honor: is the evaluation of a person's trustworthiness. Can you keep an important secret to yourself?

Integrity: must be constantly proven over time. It is the basing of one's actions on principles and their honor.

Trust: is a moral value. It is someone in whom we can place our trust and rest assured that the trust will not be betrayed.

Loyalty is a combination of the above.

Betrayal is some Bad Bad Juju.

I'm just saying.

The classic Double Tap

The Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines Stamina as: Staying Power,,,Endurance.

I define Stamina as making it home safe and sound after three 4 o'clockers in a row at the Helen Blogmeet.

Damn, my ass is worn out.

More later...

Also, my woman took over 500 photographs...stay tuned.

Double also, if any of you attendees would like me to burn a CD for you, just shoot me your address in an email.

Be cool with it.

In the same week former presidential candidate, media whore, and general buffoon Al Gore received part of a Nobel Prize, a Judge ruled Gore's film an inconvenient catalogue of errors.

The Judge pointed to "nine assertions in the film that are not supported by mainstream scientific consensus."

Logic dictates if any one of the premises on which an argument is based is invalid, so is the conclusion.

Brought to you by an anonymous guest poster...

(Got your back Sammy Baby!)

UPDATE:

CalTechGirl has an open letter to the man.

That is from looking North to South. Taking a few days off...see you when I see you.

In the meantime, this is pretty sweet.

Or you could have some Bwahahahahahah!!!

If that doesn't do it for you, go over here.

Cool Runnings!

Yesterday evening, I called a good friend of mine. I told him, "you need to be the first to know". He said know what about what?" I said, "I'm whoring out your wife." He said, "really?". I said, "yes". He said, Can we make any money?" I said, "probably." He said "cool with me".

I have never thought of myself as a pimp, but you never know...

Bwahahahahah!!!!!!

I swear, I can't make this shit up!!!

I'm just saying...

This is too good not to put up.

If you don't want to listen to the whole thing...fast forward about 4 min. I'm talking about some serious Get Down.

Dayum!!!

So is this

...and I do loves me some tail.

Especially some Tiger Swallowtail.

I have a new camera, but these were taken with the old camera by my woman.. I can't wait to see what she does with the new one.

She is pretty good at this kind of stuff.

Check out this, this, and this.

The last one is sweet.

She can also aim a shotgun...from the hip.

The Brier Patch supports Fred Thompson 100%

Do you realize what will happen if the Hildebeast is elected? I'm serious.

Think about it.

That is all.

I was talking to a good friend of mine about stuff. I told her I had many fishing stories after she told me I should take up fishing as opposed to golf.

Fishing Story #1 is true. Pictures don't lie. Hell, they will all be true...trust me.

This is my brother, and my left arm.

My brother, well, his life revolves around the Smallmouth Bass. He is, and has been, addicted for as long as I can remember. If he catches a Largemouth, he throws it over his shoulder like it was a piece of shit, but if it is a non-keeper Smallmouth, he will submerge it and massage it's gills until he is sure that it will live for another day, and watch carefully as it swims away. I admire his passion.

This particular night was very interesting (the photograph was taken around dawn)...not only did we boat a 4.5, a 5.5, and 6.5 lb Smallmouths...we released about 30 more...of several different species. Fishing with my Bro is downtown.

He's got got the rig...knows his shit...and never abandons the chase. That son of a bitch can fucking snag some Smallmouth. Of course, one should never call their brother a "son of a bitch",, but I have no class whatsoever.

We also saw a Flying Saucer

I'm just sayin"

Awhile back I mentioned I terminated 7 of my 13 computers. Downsizing. My home office here in The Brier Patch looked like NORAD.

Well this morning, I took 10 hard drives I'd removed from said machines, and beat the shit out of 'em with a sledge hammer. Man, that felt good.

I did it in the front yard because I didn't want to contaminate the Stretchengeti

Anyway, my neighbor saw me and came running over to ask if I was OK. I said, "I've never been better, but I can't say the same for them"

He said, "You're crazy"

I'll leave it at that.

Sam has too much banana

Yabu has way too much banana.

But, my boy Riprock...has got way too much Dick.

Bwahahthefuckinghahaha!!!

Is the grass always greener when you're looking in someone else's yard?

Just a thought.

...so is Fuck, or how many times can I say Fuck?

I use to be an avid golfer...three, four, maybe five times a week...but over the last several years...it has been once every two years or so.

I played with some friends today...can you say..."Fucking Circus"?

We pull up to the first tee. I pull my Driver out of my bag, and guess what comes out with it?...a fucking birds nest, thats what...there was a fucking birds nest in my fucking golf bag. Do you think they fucking laughed at that?...Damn.

We did the customary tee flip and it pointed to me, so I went first. My first ball went into outer space...my Mulligan went into the fucking woods....my third ball, the Clancy, went into the fucking parking lot. All this one in one out shit is confusing. My fourth ball went straight down the fucking fairway. After that, I had about 150 yards to the flag, and what do I do?...Smacked that fucker into nowhere land...un-fucking findable.

2nd hole tee box.

I'm last of course. What do I do?...I hit that fucking ball about 10,000 yards right down the middle of the fairway. I set up my second shot, and hit that fucker into the fucking lake. I drop another, and hit that fucker into the fucking woods...un-fucking findable.

3rd hole tee box. Par 3.

I hit a beautiful shot if you think landing right in the fucking middle of the fucking sand trap is a fucking good shot. Damn...I'm pumped. My second shot went into the fucking woods...un-fucking findable.

And so it goes...and on and on and on...for 15 more holes.

I lost every fucking ball in my fucking bag, but at least, I finished with all my clubs.

I fucking love fucking golf.

It is, what it is...

The first time I ever slow danced with my bitch, while her parents were watching, was to this song.

We were in the groove...couldn't keep our minds on anything but each other.

It was, and still is, good.

As Domino would say..."it is, what it is"